Miriks of the Light
by Pakari Yacer
Summary: Mithrax's plans are in place, and the House of Light is set to make its debut. But before Zero Hour, the pieces must be put in place. Miriks carries one of these pieces, the sixth node. But how is she supposed to take care of two kiks and complete her assignment before the Guardian arrives? And as every Eliksni knows, Guardians have no problems killing those who get in their way.
1. Chapter 1

They skirted the shadows, as their kind always had. The moon was full, casting pale light over the pine needle-covered ground, hiding them in dappling shadows, the two smaller figures guided by the taller. Wind rustled the branches of the pines, carrying in it the sounds of distant skirmishes and the rushing of the great river.

One kik stumbled, but was righted by Miriks's quick hand.

"Well, yes?" The clicking words were less than a whisper.

The small head nodded, four eyes not meeting the taller's. Without another word, she took their three-fingered hands in hers, and they moved on, broken pavement beginning to show itself under their feet. They had almost arrived.

Miriks heard the humming of engines.

Her head snapped up, searching for the sound. They were approaching. She pulled the kiks into the underbrush along the ruined road. They knew better than to question her, now that the smallest was gone. Miriks drew in a breath, resisting the urge to release their hands and draw her weapons. The arc glow would reveal them better than any movement, and Tamax and Liriks needed the comfort.

A trio of human craft whizzed by, bright flames from their exhaust vents illuminating the area around them, but they were going too quickly to see -or consider- the three Eliksni. They rounded the corner of the broken road. The kiks looked to her, eyes wide. Miriks let out the breath, and they relaxed slightly.

They rose again, and continued. Reaching a slope, she stopped, letting go of the kiks. She made the gesture for _stay_, and they nodded. Miriks slid down the steep slope in one smooth movement, her cloak dragging in the mud, the faded house sigil becoming yet more stained. She reached the bottom and drew the shock rifle, looking every way for any movement. Seeing none, she lowered the arcarm and took out the node. She examined the small device, confirming this was the correct place. It was, and Miriks slid it back into her pocket, gesturing up at the waiting kiks. Tamax came first, Liriks second, both scrambling down the slope with little grace, but with the desperate speed and silence of those who knew fear.

Together once again, the trio moved forward along the small streambed towards a broken grate in the side of the hill. They neared the darkness slowly. Knowing the kiks eyes were on her, Miriks nodded. They drew their shock daggers, blue traceries of light flickering along the edges. Misraaks had said this place would be empty. In most other things, she believed him, against her better judgement. But she would not trust the lives of her kiks on words alone. Misraaks knew that. That was why he had given her the weapons.

Miriks went first.

There was no light in these ancient human sewers beyond that of their weapons and their eyes.

"Tamax. Light, no?"

"Yes." His voice contained all the wavers of fear, but he had tried to hide it. Tamax flicked on a small, human-made light director, illuminating the dank stones of the tunnel. It would do.

"Good kiko."

He closed two of his eyes in wary happiness, but quickly opened them again. It would not do to be without vision in a place like this.

"Some comes!" Came a cry in Eliksni, and Miriks winced as the kiks squeaked in fear. So Misraaks had been mistaken.

The scrabbling of claws on stones, of metal on cloth, and she knew that she would have to act fast. "We desire peace and safe haven! No harm is brought!"

A very surprised silence met her words.

Then two voices, both confused. "A female?"

"Why is a female in the drains?"

"Get the Captain. I will approach her."

More scurrying, then a silence filled with thinking.

Miriks slung her rifle back slowly, and at her gaze the kiks sheathed their blades with wide eyes. But her hand was near the hidden pistol.

"What will they do, mother?" Liriks whispered, not even trying to hide her fear. Three of her small hands gripped Miriks's cloak.

She knelt and held the small Eliksni close, ignoring the old pain of docking and the newer pain of regrowth. "They will not hurt us if we are calm, yes? Then be at peace." Miriks hated the uncertainty in her own words. These were of Dusk, and she did not know of them.

"What house?" Came the question from down the darkened hall.

Miriks looked up in exasperation with all four eyes. Males. Always political to the end. "No house, dreg. Travelers."

"I am almost a Vandal." He sounded miffed. "No house?" At this point, the speaker was overcome with curiosity. He stepped around the corner that Miriks had not seen, a lanky specimen with a openly brandished shock rifle, held almost uncertainly. He was, indeed, almost a Vandal, his second pair of arms almost fully regrown. Miriks gently lowered the light director in her son's hand, and upon seeing the three, the Vandal froze. "Kiks...?"

"You have seen them before, yes?" Miriks couldn't keep the sarcasm from her tone, rising. "Lower your rifle, friend, they will not harm you."

He seemed confused, then gave a chittering laugh. His rifle's tip fell. "It is not them I fear, it is the fine weapon on your back. But if it is friend, then I will suspend fear. You will give name, yes?"

"You will give peace? And promise of no harm?"

He hesitated. "I…Eia. The Captain would not harm kiks, or a female."

She nodded, taking the kik's hands again. "I am Miriks." She guided them forward, and the other Eliksni made way for them.

"And these?"

"Will give you their names when they trust you," she appended, and Tamax nodded in agreement. Liriks just clung to her mother's cloak and tried to keep up.

"If of no house, then what is that? A house symbol, no?" He was regarding her cloak, walking slightly behind.

"My mother was of the House of Stone. It is hers."

The Vandal's eyes widened appreciatively, walking beside her. "A noble house."

"A fallen house," she returned softly.

He paused, seeming abashed. "Eia. I am sorry."

She did not reply, only continued down the passageway.

"I am Darxhis," he offered.

"Pleasure to meet. You are more a friend than many Dusk, no?" She offered the question to the kiks, and Liriks nodded shyly. Tamax did not reply, he was being stubborn to show nothing to these new males.

Darxhis seemed pleased at the kika's favor. The clatter of claws on stone came rushing back, more this time, heavier. A trio of Eliksni came into view, a glowrod illuminating them nicely. They rose from the rapid position, and Miriks's eyes were drawn to the central figure, garbed in gray armor with the purple highlights of Dusk. The Captain's head almost brushed the ceiling, over 15 rods tall, and all four arms were perfectly formed. They also bore weapons.

Miriks stopped before him, and bowed her head, tilting slightly forward, directing her kiks to do the same. Liriks was graceful, but Tamax was stiff. Miriks would have growled at her son if she had room to, but she needed to let the Captain speak first.

"Captain, I show you Miriks of no house and her kiks." Darxhis was... presentational.

"No house…" The Captain growled, and Miriks feared his anger before realizing that his voice was merely deep. He examined her. "It has been… many rotations since I have seen a female so favorable as this. Rise. You are honored here, life-giver." Surprised but not showing it, Miriks rose. "I am Naksar, Captain of Dusk." The tall figure regarded the kiks. "I wonder why you bring small ones to such a dangerous place. Humans and Cabal fight strongly here, and neither will show mercy to Eliksni."

The answer came easily; it was truth. "Remaining was yet more dangerous."

The Captain considered. He nodded, then turned to stride away. "Come."

She took her kiks hands and moved behind him, showing no hesitation. She must show as if in gratitude, not as though they were obstacles. Darxhis followed as a rearguard, silent enough to be forgotten.

They traversed the winding passages, some areas lit and others not, a twisting maze of shadow and light. Soon the area opened up before them, the ruins falling into a massive sinkhole of a cavern. Eliksni inhabited it, small ramshackle shelters all moved together, crates and containers lining the base to make space for climbing. Most Eliksni were Dregs, and all were male. In their center floated a single Servitor, the spherical machine in the middle of the next round of ether condensation.

Miriks blinked. Misraaks had said… She almost closed her eyes in exasperation. This was anything _but _empty.

Darxhis, the not-quite-a-Vandal, moved beside her, somehow interpreting her silence as awe of some variety. "Welcome to the Drain."

Miriks sighed. This had become a whole lot more complicated.

...  
_author's note-Misraaks is the Eliksni spelling of Mithrax, which is a human misspelling._


	2. Chapter 2

The Titan took the node from the ancient floorboard and synced it with the transponder. It beeped, and a confirmation was shown. He nodded. "This was it. Two of six."  
The Hunter reached down and ripped her knife from the corpse of the Captain. "Good. I never miss this place."

The Warlock surveyed the air above them, scanning for new threats, neatly avoiding the purple-garbed bodies. "We have to head out soon, skiffs incoming."

"You think the Fallen would have learned by now." The Hunter stated, shoving the knife back in her belt.

The Titan looked around at the ruins, and then at the ruined forms of Fallen. "You're right, let's head. These riddles won't solve themselves."


	3. Chapter 3

Miriks sat, turning over the node in her hand. The small metal device was made up of two circles adjoining each other, blue and orange light sharing space within. It was silent, meaning that she was still safe, for now, but the internal tracker stated that two of its kind had already been found. It stored the data that Misraaks had believed so important. It was the true reason she had come here, but she had told none that.

She had not expected that it would be a secret.

Miriks looked over to where Tamax was sparring with a Dreg. The knives were blunted, of course, but he needed the exertion. The small Eliksni darted back and forth, trying his hardest to touch his larger opponent with his twin blades, but the Dreg was fast and much stronger. Miriks watched as he pushed the small one to the ground without much effort. The ring of other Eliksni watching alternatively mocked and encouraged the young one, spurring him to get back up again. And like she had taught him, Tamax rose, a snarl on his lips.

She could only teach him so much about being a male, now that Vanox was dead.

Miriks looked over to her daughter, and all four eyes widened. "Liriks! Rocks are not for eating, yes!? Get that out of your mouth!"

She spat it reluctantly out and gazed up at Miriks with a gaze she knew all too well. "But mother… I think I'm empty."

"Eliksni shouldn't fill themselves with rocks, that is for filthy Hive," Miriks continued, unwilling to pause her scolding. But the true reply, the one her daughter would not hear, beat at the inside of her. She was empty too. Miriks had no ether to give her kiks.

She signed and looked around, wondering at a solution. Luckily, the next ether distribution was tonight, but it was up to the Captain's mercy as to how much she and her kiks received. They did not serve him, and provided no useful purpose. Tradition required that only the useful deserve nourishment. What might he do, to make them useful?

Or more specifically, what would he have _her _do, to be useful?

Miriks shoved the node in her pocket and stood, shaking off her fears. "Come, kika, let's walk, no?"

"Eia, mother." Liriks raised herself up, but upon taking a step fell to the ground.

"Kika!" Miriks leaned down and picked the small Eliksni up. "What is wrong?" Then she realized how light her daughter was, and how dark her eyes.

"Nothing, I tripped, yes."

"No." Miriks berated herself. She had fed Tamax last, yes, but she had been sure Liriks's dose would have lasted longer... Desperation rising in her, Miriks looked around. The Servitor. Maybe it was leaky? Having no other clear course of action, she strode to the spherical machine, her daughter making no further excuse.

The Servitor was facing away from them, its visual ascertainment device casting purple light on the far wall of the hole. It was as tall as she was, and wide besides.

As she approached it, Miriks realize that the machine was not alone. It was floating near the ground, and several of its armor plates had been removed, to let someone _reach inside it. _And someone was! She saw an Eliksni, head and shoulders into the machine, an array of tools and parts arranged around it. Her eyes widened, and she paused. Was that a wire rifle, disassembled on the ground?

Then the male extricated himself. He ducked under the Servitor's shell and looked at her, eyes sparkling. "Hello, Miriks of none and unnamed kika! How have you fared?" It was Darxhis, the not-dreg. But instead of war garb, his chest and arms were bare, spotted with grease and pieces of glowing blue light that had to be ether, and his head was free of helmet or mask, showing short ridges of black hair.

He, along with several higher-ranking Eliksni, had attempted to speak with her further the night before. She had rebuffed them without ceremony, although he seemed to be cheerful enough now.

Miriks was startled into a reply. "Oh, I am well, yes. What… what are you doing?"

"Modifying the Servitor. Kaltis does not mind." Darxhis removed himself completely from beneath the machine, placing a hand on it proudly. Liriks, still in her arms, looked at the Vandal curiously.

"No, I mean… Is that not the place of an Archon to modify a Servitor?"

Darxhis shrugged. "Captain Naksar doesn't have an Archon." He looked at her, closing two eyes in cheeky contentment. "He has a Darxhis."

Miriks didn't answer immediately, instead looked closer at the Servitor. She noted that it was in quite good condition, and even seemed to be polished. "Well, I cannot deny necessity," she acceded. "And it is quite well-looking."

"Eia." He seemed pleased at those words. "Why did you approach me? To converse regarding my superior mechanical prowess, yes?"

"Ah… no."

Liriks giggled weakly, and Miriks looked down at her daughter with narrowed eyes.

Darxhis shrugged, looking mildly disappointed, but the sparkle was still in his eyes. "That is understandable. You had only just known of me." He lay down under the Servitor and pulled it closer to him, one of his smaller arms taking a tool and handing it to the waiting stronger limb, where he resumed his work.

Miriks raised her eyes to the rocky ceiling. "No, Darxhis…" She sighed, placing aside her annoyance. "I seek your help."

That brought his interest. Darxhis slid sideways, looking up at her in confusion. "Is anything wrong?"

She backpedaled quickly. "It is nothing with me. But my kika is… she is empty." Liriks shrunk against her, shy at Darxhis's gaze.

He blinked all four eyes, slowly. "Can you not feed her?"

Miriks was resigned, now. She would show weakness, for her family. "I am empty."

Darxhis slid fully out from under the machine again, and sat up. His expression was blank, and his eyes did not move. She waited for his answer, fearing it, fists clenched. Would she be in his debt, after this? Or would he report her to his Captain, for unlawfully asking for ether?

He gestured for her to come closer, and stood. "Well, that sounds like something we'll have to fix, yes?" Darxhis touched the machine, and it rotated in the air, its huge purple eye turning to regard them.

Miriks blinked. He would help them so easily? Maybe he would ask something of her later? He continued, and she realized he was actually speaking _to _the Servitor.

"Yes, Kaltis, I know it is not time yet. But this good female and her kika need energy. You can help me, yes?" The Servitor hummed, a heart-shaking sound, but it sounded favorable. A small hose extended from its side, and Darxhis took it with a small bow. Miriks set down Liriks and they followed his lead.

The Servitor hummed again, yet more favorably, and Darxhis knelt, holding out the hose to Liriks. She approached hesitantly, but the prospect of food was more than her lack of confidence. He set the nozzle against a very small cup, and pressed the lever. A thick, rolling blue fluid emerged, shining with the inner light that brought life to all Eliksni. The condensed ether flowed into the cup until it was full, then Darxhis halted the flow. He then presented the cup to Liriks, who took it with the utmost care. She drank, making sure to lick every last drop out. Energy visibly filled the kika, causing her eyes to glow brighter and for an invisible weight to be lifted from her shoulders.

Miriks forced herself to speak, unable to hide the awe. "There, kika, be sure to thank the generous Eliksni." So generous, he had given the kika an entire _dreg's _portion! More than triple the generally allowed amount for a kik.

The small one touched her forehead and bowed to the Vandal. "Thank you, Vandal Darxhis of Dusk." Already, her voice was stronger, no waver at all, and Darxhis's eyes sparkled.

"My pleasure, little Kella."

Liriks giggled at the grandiose title, then spoke again, a rare thing. But then again, she _was _full of ether. "I am Liriks, yes." Then she turned to her mother. "Can I go watch Tamax?"

"Eia, stay in listen-sight. You have daggers?"

"Eia!" The kika ran off across the rocky ground to the circle where Tamax was witnessing a spar between two Wretches.

"She is very kind, your Liriks." He crossed his top arms, pleased to know the name. "Your son needs ether as well, no?"

"He was fed last, and should be fine for several days more, but Darxhis, will not your Captain be angry at the misuse of his ether?"

He snorted, amused. "You did not care of my Captain's wishes before you asked for ether."

She struggled for a reply a moment. "I did not know you would give so much!"

He laughed out loud, a pleasant chatter. "Captain Daksar does not monitor the ether stores, that is my task. He will not miss drops such as this." Without further ado, he filled the small cup again and held it out to her.

Miriks took it slowly, lowering her head to look up at Darxhis. He was two heads taller than she, very tall for a new Vandal. "Go on, drink, yes?" he prompted, and she did, not meeting his gaze. The ether ran down her throat, this purified form quickly suffusing every cell in her body with a burst of new energy. Miriks closed her eyes and let out an unwilling breath as her body relaxed, a slight mist of blue emerging from her mouth. It had been at least a month since she had so much in a single dose. It seemed centuries ago when she had received this much every week on the Ketch of Stone. Then had been a far better time.

Then Darxhis took the cup from her hand, and made to fill it again. She blinked and alerted herself, taking his arm. "No, you don't have to, Darxhis."

He looked at her in puzzlement. "Don't you need extra as a mother?"

"No, no, I am not bearing." He tilted his head at that, and she sighed, gently pushing his arm down. "And you have already given enough, yes?"

Darxhis blinked at that, then nodded. "If you say so, Miriks of none."

She let go of his hand, conscious of his proximity, and stepped back. "I had better watch my kiks."

"Make sure they don't kill anyone, yes?" Darxhis showed his teeth then, a thing she had never seen from an Eliksni, unless in threat, but this was different. It was not _quite _as terrifying as it looked on a human. She appreciated the meaning, however.

"It's only been two weeks since the last incident," she replied, surprising herself with coyness. "Fair luck with your modifications, Archon."

He laughed and returned the hose to the Servitor's side. "Kaltis appreciates the wishes. Sometimes he is nervous."

Miriks left him to his tampering, a new spring in her step. Yes, she had new ether. But it had also been a long time since she had participated in a conversation without significant weight. She hoped to have more.


	4. Chapter 4

"_This_ is the place?"

"Should be around this corner."

"But why here, in the middle of Exodus Black, of all places?"

"I did not ask Mithrax his methods."

"I _hate _Nessus…"

More muttering and some shushing. Soon the fireteam was organized, a strategy chosen for the infiltration of the Shattered Hull. Arc in, solar out.

The Fallen guards didn't even see them coming, two bullets from the Hunter's hand cannon dropping them. The Titan leapt off the ledge, summoning arclight into his fists, soaring down to the ruined decks dozens of feet below them. He landed, and the entire cave was filled with lightning. Scattering surges ran along the steel floor, megawatts of power sending Fallen to the ground, shuddering as their ether was superheated inside them.

The Warlock landed beside him and provided suppressive fire, sending the Vandals above them diving for cover as her pulse rifle took the slower down one by one in explosions of solar energy. The Hunter slunk in the shadows, knives finding backs and bullets finding eyes, untouchable as she tumbled and leapt over opponents.

The Captain, decorated with an array of destroyed Vex frills, entered the battle, rasping orders, sending Dregs and Wretches pouring from their shelters, a fleet of autonomous Shank drones rising to engage the new threats. Snarling and screeching, the Fallen Eliksni of the House of Dusk charged forward to fight off the human invaders. But it was futile, and they knew it. After all, these were three Guardians, those of the Light, the enders of Houses and the killers of Kells. But favorably for them, the Guardians were not here to destroy them.

Shouts between the humans, and then the Hunter had taken something, her grenade leaving behind a shattered Servitor and a cloud of smoke. Just as quickly as they had entered, the fireteam left, the Warlock weaving walls of flame to block pursuit. They sprinted through the passages of stone and twisted metal, the ancient crash site ideal for exfiltration. The Hull was behind them quickly.

The Hunter got to the ships first, perched atop one of the many square mesas of Nessus. She held up the node she had taken. "Rather small thing. I really hope this is what we're looking for."

The Titan gestured, and she tossed it to him. He produced the Eliksni transponder, and synced it with the node. "Yes, it's the right one. I'm just glad it was here. Those riddles usually get the best of me. Part four of six, complete."

"Here, let me see the next." The Warlock approached, and read the glowing human text, translated from the Eliksni symbols. "Now leave the squalor/ northeast to your archon's ruins/ descend into the belly, deep below/ find the nest, the untouched rations/ behold the legacy of your people." She hummed to herself in satisfaction. "Mithrax, an Eliksni of many talents."

"The European Dead Zone. The sewers," stated the Hunter in all confidence.

"I'll take your word for it..." the Titan muttered.

"North of the ruined cathedral, yes. Our 'archon's ruins.'" The Warlock laughed. "A quaint title for an ancient place of worship."

"Well, I guess we have a flight to take, then." The Titan immediately leapt up and settled into his starship's cockpit.

The Hunter sighed. "But we just got here…"

The Titan tilted his head. "I'm sure we can wait for you to kill a few Vex Minds with Failsafe while Eramis's plots go unchallenged."

A loud sigh. "Fine, fine, you're right!"

The fireteam departed, the three ships breaking the atmosphere in unison.


	5. Chapter 5

Night had fallen, and a joyous orange glow lit the Drain. The raid teams had experienced success, bringing back supplies, raw materials, and even one set of Guardian weapons after a Hunter had failed to stop a joint glimmer extraction. The Captain stepped forward and raised the most impressive weapon high, a massive sniper rifle that gleamed in the lights of glowrods and torches. The assembled Eliksni cheered for the unexpected victory -they had only lost seven lives in the battle- and Captain Naksar proclaimed that extra ether would be distributed to the surviving victors.

Miriks sat with her kiks near the back of the assembled group, trying to appear supportive but not overly visible. Just because she had received help from Darxhis did not mean that she had to pretend to ignore all chances at favor. Tonight was a gathering, held once a week when minimal -but highly skilled- guards were posted to let everyone else have a chance to rest and regain ether.

Tamax was watching it all with wide eyes, admiring the Captain's shining armor, watching the Marauders and Vandals surrounding him, honoring him. Miriks felt unease at the kiko's admiration. She had tried to teach him the importance of more things than just prowess in battle and honor gained there, but she was not sure how well her teaching was being received.

She watched as the Servitor was summoned forward, Darxhis following several feet behind. The other Eliksni split and made a path for them, and Miriks lifted her head slightly, trying to get a better view over the taller Eliksni around her. Darxhis had cleaned up from his machinations earlier in the day, and was dressed in what appeared to be his finest garments; a fur-collar cape and gray robes that were reminiscent of a lower priest. Somehow, he knew the proper attire for an Archon's assistant, which was curious to her.

Kaltis hovered beside the Captain, who took the proffered ether hose. Filling the heavy cup from his belt, Captain Naksar drank deeply, the amount of ether visibly brightening him. Miriks judged him as not gluttonous; he needed a large amount to maintain his size and strength, and the amount he had taken was sufficient. After he had taken his draught, the Captain summoned first his two Lieutenants, only slightly smaller than he. Next came the Marauders and those who had survived the encounter with the guardian earlier that day. After that, it became a succession of authority and strength, and the crowd of Eliksni was allowed to sit as they waited for their turn.

Miriks pulled out the node and turned it over in her hands, anxiety returning. What was she to do now with this? She could not very well just leave it here, unless she hid it, but that would result in more destruction… Her idealism had always punished her before, and now, here, it seemed like it would catch up to her yet again. All this, to help Misraaks and his vision. But… she owed him this, and it wasn't his fault that he hadn't known of the Drain.

Liriks watched her and reached out questioningly. Miriks locked its functions and handed it to the kika, who took it with joyful distraction.

Miriks tried to distract herself. "Tamax, you are well?" she asked, and her son looked to her.

"Eia, mother." His small head turned to her, the short growths of red hair decorating his ridges pleasantly. She was glad at the chance to have cut it on Misraak's ketch.

"How do you feel from training?"

He looked away. "I am weak."

"You are young, kiko." She put a hand on his head in reassurance. "You kept getting up, and you will grow stronger in time, yes?"

"Eia." He looked downcast for a moment more, then brightened. "But a Marauder spoke to me! And let me see his lightbender!"

"Oh, truly?"

"Eia! He showed it to me, too, it was so hard to see him!"

"Well, I think he must have been impressed by your fighting, kiko."

Tamax blinked at that. Miriks closed two eyes, and he looked down abashedly. She felt a claw touch her shoulder, and turned.

"So, you are going to get in line, yes?"

Miriks blinked as the questioning figure sat next to her without invitation. It was another female, four-armed and dressed in dark clothing, her mouth hidden by an ether mask. A jagged scar left one of her right eyes dark, but the remaining ones were bright and observant. She kicked at some Dregs to make room for herself in Mirik's portion, and they turned, ready to protest. They then saw who it was, and apparently decided not to voice their objections, moving away quickly to make room for the smaller Eliksni. "Why not get in line?" she repeated, flipping her cloak behind her, showing a human-wrought revolving gunpowder weapon on her hip. "That would show initiative on your part, yes?"

Miriks found words. "Ah, no… I am waiting for an invitation, Eliksa."

"Why?"

The question was unexpected, and Miriks narrowed her eyes at the interrogative tone. The stranger hadn't even noted the formality shown to her! "Because I have three mouths potentially in need of ether, not just my own. Who are you, to ask me such things?"

The female laughed, a surprisingly strong sound. "You have light in you, Miriks of none. I accept your judgement. I am Sekris."

Miriks was more confused than before, but decided not to accept the sudden compliments. But the presence of another female was… welcome. "You know my name. Someone told you of me, yes?"

Sekris leaned in conspiratorially, eyes sparkling with amusement. "My husband. He is close to the Captain." Miriks nodded, and Sekris looked over the kiks with several evaluating eyes. Liriks was still playing with the node and took no notice, but Tamax watched her in return, wary. "They are healthy. Living kiks are a good thing to have, nowadays." She looked up at Miriks, and her gaze was suddenly sober. "For they are all too rare. You do a good work."

"I… I try." Miriks shoved back the old pains, showing nothing with her eyes or arms. She sought a change in subject. "Why haven't I seen you earlier, Eliksa? Are there other females?"

"I was out with the war party," Sekris stated casually. "There are a few, but one is late-bearing and hidden, the others usually do not leave her recently. And please, do not call me Eliksa, that is for the others."

It was strange, but not unheard of for a female to reject the title, and Miriks took it in stride. "You are a warrior with your husband?" Miriks asked, tilting her head in curiosity. This retook Tamax's attention, and he noticed the gun on Sekris's hip with widened eyes.

"Eia, he is a Marauder, I am a Vandal. He will be a Captain one day."

Tamax cut in excitedly. "Did you get to fight the Guardian?"

Sekris sighed and tossed her head. "No, today was not my lucky day." Tamax shrunk slightly, but she wasn't done. "Ah, why so quick to cast down eyes, kiko? Where do you think I got this?" Sekris drew the revolver, spinning it artfully in her hand. "A foolish Titan tried to kill my husband. He forgot about me." Sekris engaged a safety measure and handed it grip-first to the kiko. Miriks did not object despite the spike of fear. Before he had died, Vanox had taught their son how to use arcarms, and human guns were not all that different in function.

"A Guardian weapon." The pride was evident in Sekris's voice. "Ancient and reliable. Kills whatever you point it at. I took down a Cabal Centurion with its help, once." Tamax looked over it, holding the firearm reverently in both hands.

"It's… heavy." Tamax obviously couldn't find the right words.

Sekris laughed, and gestured for the gun. The kiko gave it back reluctantly. "Human weapons are always heavy. That's why they last so long. Maybe if you stay I'll let you shoot it sometime." She looked to Miriks. "If your mother allows, of course."

Miriks nodded at the consideration; she had started to worry. Tamax turned to Miriks quickly, not asking the question that had been implied. "I do not know, kiko." She carefully refrained from saying any more, but Sekris noted her words, and lack of them. Miriks would have to face her directly, before she spoke to someone else. But how, when Tamax was watching?

"Wife!" The cry came, and Miriks looked to see a tall figure approaching from the central area. It was a Marauder, a large figure with rough but functional armor, eyes glowing bright with renewed ether. Who Miriks assumed was Sekris's husband gestured grandly at the warrior female. "I see you've found someone else to interrogate." Sekris closed all of her eyes in exasperation, and the Marauder addressed Miriks, still stepping over Dregs and Vandals who made way for him. "Miriks of none! You are settling in well enough, yes?"

"Eia, Marauder," she replied, uncertain, but adding, "And do not worry, I have taken interrogation before. This is not so bad."

He stepped up beside them, folding himself into the available space that Sekris had cleared for him. The Marauder reached out, almost hitting a nearby Eliksni, and Sekris let herself be pulled into an embrace, looking at the ceiling with all four eyes. "Canikos, you're ethersick."

He laughed as she shoved him away light-heartedly. "You have objections to that state? Did not think so!" Canikos turned to Miriks. "I am glad to hear that you are well! You are a mystery to my Captain, but if my wife likes you then I shall suspend judgement." Miriks nodded at that, studying him, closing two eyes unconsciously at his friendly manner.

Canikos noted Tamax's wide eyes, which had been staring at him for the past minute. "Hello, kiko, we meet again! You are well?"

Tamax attempted an affirmative and failed, looking between the Marauder and Miriks. "Mother, that, that, that-"

"Is the Eliksni that spoke to you?" she responded softly, touching his small shoulder to calm him. "Eia, it is a small settlement we are in, yes?" He nodded, blinking as his young mind struggled between inborn shyness and insatiable curiosity. Miriks spoke directly to Canikos. "Thank you for allowing my son's admiration."

He closed two eyes, a surprisingly open expression. "It is an honor to me. I hope one day for kiks of my own." He looked at Sekris pointedly, and she struck him lightly with a lower arm. "Ah!" He rubbed his arm in exaggerated pain, and she used the opening to punch him again in the ribs.

"Patience does _not _become you," she chided as Miriks laughed.

Sekris caught a glimpse of the pain of remembrance that Miriks shoved back. The Eliksa touched her husband's shoulder, and spoke softly to him. He seemed surprised, but nodded.

He looked back at Tamax, leaning forward. "Kiko, have you ever seen a Hive Knight?"

Tamax shook his head, ready to devour whatever tale the Marauder had planned to tell him.

Sekris used her opening to move closer to Miriks. She leaned back on two arms, the other two folded over her chest, pretending to watch the procession. Miriks prepared herself for more questions, and was not disappointed. Sekris's next words were soft, not meant to carry. "You are not truly houseless, I think."

Miriks eyed her. "Why do you think that?"

"Why else would you leave a place that had been safe enough to grow these so far?" She gestured to the kiks. "Your old home was ended, but now you have found another." Sekris looked to her lazily. "Your weapons and health testifies to that, no? But for some reason… you are here instead." Miriks did not reply. "But you also are not planning on staying?"

"You see well despite that missing eye," Miriks stated, letting her caution show.

"You are here for more reasons than haven, yes?"

"Did your Captain send you?" The words came out harsher than intended, and Liriks looked up from her play with the node for a moment. Finding only a pair of blank faces looking down at her, the kika went back to her gnawing.

Sekris looked down, contrite. "No, Miriks, I am curious. I also traveled once through these forests alone, seeking shelter and help. Forgive my forward-facing, I am used to dealing with males. I want to know of you."

Miriks regarded her with new eyes. Could she trust Sekris with the truth? She spoke slowly. "Words, female to female? You will not reveal my story?"

This seemed to excite the warrior, the usage of kika wordings. "I will not. On my cannon, I promise."

Miriks prepared herself with a breath, then began. "You are right. I am not houseless. I was born into the House of Stone, when the Kell was alive and its Ketch intact. I was raised on stories of the Before, of the Great Machine and its Light, and I enjoyed my blessed life. But when I was still immature, the Demon King Oryx crushed my house and killed Chelchis, He Who Stood Before the Maw." She stopped for the moment of silence required to honor the fallen Kell, and Sekris observed it. Then she continued. "We were scattered throughout the system beyond hope of rejoining, and I lived among Winter for a time. I met a good male there and together we had three kiks."

Sekris blinked and glanced at Liriks and Tamax, wondering. Miriks touched Sekris's arm, and she looked back at her. "The Vex came upon us, and we were not strong enough to repel them. My husband and smallest kika were killed."

Sekris's eyes fell and closed in sadness. "I am sorry. I cannot imagine." Miriks nodded, accepting the sympathy, but Sekris spoke again before she could resume. "How did you and these survive, then?"

"In time. For now, let me say it was a hardship alone on Venus. Despite the changes made for survivability, it was harsh. And then… I met an Eliksni that said he would help me. Desperate for life, I accepted."

Miriks took a breath, remembering that day. She remembered putting aside her fear, all her reservation, just to keep her kiks alive. She would have done anything. She still would. "But… this Eliksni surprised me. He did not want anything of my body, or as a warrior for his glory. Rather, he wanted someone to listen to him. So, on the journey to Earth, I did. I heard his stories, his desires, the things he wished for all Eliksni. And I listened, believed him." Miriks looked down, remembering his words. "They were not politics. They were not empty words of hope and peace, but of a journey of humility, hardship, and pain." She looked back to Sekris, whose eyes were wide and attentive. "They were words of Light." There was a pause, as the word that had once meant something to all Eliksni conveyed itself between them. From where he told his story, Canikos glanced over to them to gauge the mood. He looked away and resumed his tale.

Miriks pressed forward. "I joined him. I joined the House of Light."

"The House of Light…" Sekris repeated, feeling the words in her mouth. "I have not heard of that house. What are those things that this Eliksni believes?"

Miriks began thinking of how best to reply, but her attention was pulled away by the sound of something being dropped and the squeak of a kika. "Liriks, what is it?"

"It made a sound!"

Miriks turned sharply to the young Eliksni, gaze intent. "What?" She snatched the node from where Liriks had dropped it, causing the kika to shrink back at Miriks's speed. She inspected the node, Sekris looking on in puzzlement, and found the cause. The fourth node had been found. There was only one in between where the seekers were now and where she was. Miriks shivered. She did not want to be here when the seekers arrived.

But then, she remembered Sekris, Canikos, and Darxhis. They were good Eliksni, surprisingly kind and potentially open. She did not want them to be here either, and now, Miriks realized that it was about more than just her and her kiks safety.

Sekris noted her rising panic. "You are well, yes? Miriks, what is that device?" Concern tinged the younger female's words, and Miriks forced herself to calm. She had time. The last node had been on Nessus, almost the entire system away from where they were now. She just had to make a plan.

She was about to speak again when another voice came first, familiar. "Miriks of none." She turned, surprised at the formal statement, and found Darxhis standing before them. He was solemn, eyes lowered, a great difference from the bright and happy machinist she had met earlier. At his appearance, Canikos paused, and Tamax looked to his mother with worry in his eyes. "Captain Naksar requests your presence."


	6. Chapter 6

Miriks rose slowly, her sore muscles straining. "I only?"

Darxhis nodded, and then she saw the worry. It was visible in his eyes, the tilt of his shoulders. "Eia, you only."

Miriks nodded and reached down to comfort Liriks with a touch on the head. "Do not worry, I'll be back soon."

Darxhis led her out of the crowds slowly, then started the walk up to where the Captain was standing beside the Servitor. Darxhis spoke, surprising her. "I am glad you met Sekris and Canikos, they will be able to assist you where I cannot. They are good friends, yes?"

"Darxhis, you don't… eia. They are."

"Is everything well?" He looked to her then, slowing to let her step beside him, a breach of tradition.

She spoke honestly. "I don't know. I will let you know when I learn so."

He nodded, and soon they were before the Captain. All other supplicants had already been dealt with, and the last of the dregs had draught. His lieutenants were away, presumably planning the next day's actions. She assumed a position of weakness, hunching slightly, hiding the new energy from Darxhis's secret gift of ether. Darxhis addressed the large Eliksni. "Captain Naksar, I bring you Miriks of No House."

He stood from his seat, a tangled throne of messily crafted metal. "Attend us, machinist." Darxhis bobbed a bow, and the huge Eliksni looked down at Miriks. He was at least three times her mass, and almost twice as tall. He reached back and slung the guardian rifle over his shoulder as a symbol of his power. "Eliksa, walk with me, if you would."

Miriks wondered briefly where they would walk before answering. "I would." He gestured towards the stairs leading to the rim of the sinkhole, and she nodded, making her way to them. The Captain walked beside her, Darxhis following.

He began without preamble. "How are you faring? The Drain is kind to you?"

"I am well, Captain, thank you."

"Your kiks as well?"

"Still bright."

He nodded. "Ah, that is good to hear. I hope they remain that way, yes?" Miriks remained silent; she knew the insinuation and where this was going. She would be grateful, but would not fill his pride by asking. The reached the rim and began to walk around the edge, the occasional guard looking down into it. "Well, Eliksa, there is reason for me to call you. You are small and weary, and your kiks as well. I have an offer for you, Miriks of None." He paused, and she stopped as well. They looked down in the Drain together, watching Eliksni converse and perform tasks.

"Eia, Captain?"

"Join Dusk. Serve in the Drain, and you and your kiks will be cared for. A half-dreg ether ration for them until they are Armed, and a full Vandal ration for you."

Miriks hid her shudder at the thought of docking her children's lower arms, just to prove obedience to this Captain. Misraaks had made it clear that the barbaric recent practices would have no place in the world he imagined. She did not reject the offer outright, however; that would be rude, and notwithstanding the new tradition, it was a fine offer for anyone other than she. "That is all the conditions?"

"Eia."

"No marriage to a superior?" She fixed him with all four eyes; a bold gaze. But it was an important question, to determine his character. Maybe he could be convinced as well.

The Captain laughed and closed his eyes, shifting slightly. "My, you are a wordy one." He met her gaze squarely. "No, I will not force you into a relationship, good Eliksa. But continued reproduction would be beneficial to all of us, do you not agree?" He looked down again, to his people. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his next words were somber. "We must stay as one, as much as we can. Or we will all fall together in the Dark."

She nodded slowly. "You are right. Thank you for the offer, Captain Naksar of Dusk. I will consider."

The Captain did not look away from the hole. "Consideration will cost you today's ration."

"I will survive. But my kiks?"

Naksar laughed again; despite his sobriety, he was in a much better mood then when she had first met him, and full of ether besides. "Darxhis, do you not agree that this one would be a fine trader, yes? She could be our representative to Spider's Syndicate."

Darxhis, surprised at the sudden attention, nodded. "Eia, her tongue is quite clever."

The Captain straightened. "Your kiks will be fed. Bring them to Kaltis, I wish to meet them there."

"Many thanks, Captain of Dusk." Miriks bowed, touching the space between her eyes, recognizing the dismissal. She respected his choice to conduct his business out of earshot of her kiks.

She turned to depart, and Darxhis met her gaze. He tilted his head, and she closed two of her eyes. He responded in like, happy that she seemed to be, then closed both eyes on one side of his head.

Miriks looked up with all four. The shameless rogue. She couldn't help the sparks of warmth in her chest as she walked back, however.

She went back to where the others sat, and Sekris looked up at her with wary curiosity from where she was playing a hand game with Liriks. "All well?"

"Eia."

"And then, the entire thing _exploded!" _Tamax gasped on cue, and Canikos's eyes glinted in pleasure. "We had little time to get out before they descended on us, but Sekris is still too skilled of a pilot for her own good; so with all four of us piled on the Pike, we narrowly evaded the next bunch of dropships."

Tamax lifted a hand eagerly, and Canikos gestured in the affirmative. The kiko took the chance eagerly. "And the Hive can teleport, yes? Why did they not get in your way?"

Canikos lifted a finger with barely a pause. "Ah, you are correct, Tamax, but you forget! Their infernal witches must know where you are going to intercept you! And I," A lightning-fast punch came from Sekris at this point, and Canikos went on without pause, "We! Were much too smart, and they had no time to pursue us when their entire store of crystals was going up in voidflames."

Tamax watched his every movement with wide eyes, and Miriks broke in. "That sounds like a good place to stop, yes? Kiks, the Captain has offered you both some ether, and you are going to accept it."

"Aw, mother!" Tamax keened, but Liriks looked up in confusion.

She started slowly. "Did we not-"

"Liriks, Tamax, come now, no time for questions, the Captain is waiting."

"We get to meet the Captain!?" Tamax leapt to his feet.

Miriks almost laughed at Canikos's face; he looked a little put out. "He's not _that _impressive," he grumbled.

Sekris closed her eyes and leaned against him. "Quiet, my foolish one. He is far more impressive than you. But I picked you, yes? Remember."

He sighed and put an arm around her. "Remembered, my bright one."

Miriks made her gaze leave them and took her kiks' hands, and together they ascended up the slope. Darxhis and the Captain waited for them, and Liriks brightened upon seeing the slim machinist. She stayed quiet, however. Tamax's mouth was open upon seeing the Captain again.

Naksar crouched in order not to strain the small Eliksni's necks, eyes bright upon seeing them. "Ah, small ones, it is a pleasure to see you again."

Miriks nudged them gently. Miriks went first, surprisingly, her small voice high but thankfully without fear. "Thank you, Dusk Captain. For being nice to mother, yes."

Tamax jumped in after her. "Eia, thank you, Captain for, uhm, letting us stay."

Naksar chuckled. "I am glad, and honored by your presence. It has been a while since we have hosted kiks in the Drain. Please, what are your names, if that is permitted?"

The kiks looked to Miriks, who nodded. Names were important, but he had asked directly, and it would be rude to refuse someone of his station. They gave their names shortly, and Naksar responded with grace. He was obviously taken with them, as many males often were, and Miriks reflected on the ratio of danger to usefulness having kiks with her was. Of course, the potential of losing them always outweighed everything else, but she had escaped several situations of potential danger from other Eliksni with her kiks in tow.

But she had only known one other species to spare young ones.

After a quick conversation, Naksar allowed them their ether, Liriks not doing the best job of hiding her recent energization, but the Captain did not comment. Darxhis poured a small ration for them, which they took gratefully, drinking quickly.

"There, small ones, I hope that helps. You must have been wanting, so long in the wilds," Naksar stated.

"No, not really," Tamax said, considering. "Mother takes good care, and besides-"

"There are other generous Eliksni," Miriks finished for him, as graciously as she could. "We were quite fortunate. Now, kiks, I am sure the Captain has need of his own time, and you both need rest, yes?"

"Ah… not truly," Liriks said, peering up at Miriks, and Captain Naksar laughed.

"Ah, truth from the mouth of kiks," he said, shaking his large head. "I remember the saying." He tilted his head to Miriks. "Unfortunately, you are correct. But as well it was a honor speaking to you again, and remember your consideration well." She bowed to him, and he spoke to Darxhis shortly before striding away.

Miriks faced the problem at hand -two kiks- and put her arms on her hips. "It was not meant as a question, kika. You will sleep soon."

"But it was? A question?" Tamax replied, eyes scrunching in confusion.

"Yes, Tamax is right, and I don't want rest," Liriks rejoined with the authority of a child after all apparent formality has ended. "And I want to say hello to Darxhis."

Miriks looked up with all four eyes. "Oh, all right. Say good night, rather, but hurry."

Miriks scurried over to where the slim Eliksni stood. "Good night, Darxhis." She wrapped her small arms around his leg, and he seemed frozen in shock. He shook his head and knelt, gently disengaging her from his limb.

"Good night, little kella." He returned the embrace, her small form enfolded in his arms. He let her go, holding her shoulders with two of his arms. "Now, listen to your mother, yes? Rest is needed, especially after…" He closed two eyes. "_So_ much ether."

She giggled. "I've never been this full before! I could stay up for a week, yes."

"Wait, when did you get extra ether?" Tamax tilted his head, squinting slightly and crossing two arms.

"Come now, both of you," Miriks said as Darxhis stood.

"Wait!" Liriks cried, "I almost forgot!" To Miriks's enduring embarrassment, she ran over to where the Servitor floated, watching them all with its unchanging gaze. She hesitated, as she _ought_. It regarded her silently.

"Kika! What are you _doing_?" Miriks was beginning to lose her patience.

She turned back. "Can I say goodnight to Kaltis, too?" Her voice was smaller.

"Of course not, silly kisa!" Tamax's voice was loud, his annoyance coming out in condemnation of his smaller sister. "Now get back before mother becomes mad at us!"

"I wasn't asking you, kiso!" she barked back. Liriks immediately shed her hypothetical fangs and looked to Darxhis with wide eyes.

Miriks touched her forehead and stepped closer to the machinist. "Darxhis, I am so sorry, please forgive them-"

Darxhis laughed. "Do not be, this is an interesting question!" He walked to where Liriks stood, Miriks tailing behind, feeling like she was losing any control she might have had of the situation. He gestured to Tamax. "You too, kiko, come. I wish to speak with both of you. Tamax looked skeptical, but did not want to miss out on whatever this was. He sat beside his sister and the machinist.

Darxhis looked the kiks squarely in their eyes, one after the other. "By tradition? The answer is no. The Servitors are sacred, created in the image of the Great Machine, and those who are not sanctified cannot touch them upon desire, only need. Surely you know this, yes?"

"Eia…" Liriks looked down, disappointed, and Tamax nodded.

Darxhis sat beside her, stretching his lanky limbs out. "But, I think of it… differently. Surely, sanctification does not only come by a priest's blessing or by great deeds. Is it not when something is pure and undefiled also, when it is sanctified? And what is more pure than a good kik, who honors mother and the Light?" He tilted his head and looked to Tamax, and then Liriks. "Do you honor your mother? And the Light?"

Liriks, seeing her chance, nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, yes I try!"

He considered her words, touching his chin with a smaller limb. "But you must have a witness, no?" He turned to Miriks, who watched with wide eyes. "What say you, mother of this kika?"

Miriks was so absolutely taken aback, she had no words for several seconds. _What happened to that clever tongue he had mentioned earlier? _"I… she is a good kika."

"Full of light?"

"...Eia. We all are, during first years. That is what my Archon taught."

Darxhis closed his eyes and looked to the kika. "Then I have no objection, little Liriks." He opened two of them coyly. "And I also don't think he will mind. He likes being with Eliksni, especially the little ones." Liriks closed two eyes, the remaining sparkling. She leapt up, and Darxhis stood as well, Tamax watching with wide eyes. Darxhis spoke to Kaltis, and the Servitor drifted closer to the ground with a curious hum. It lowered to Liriks's eye level, where she summarily hugged the large machine. Hugged was a generous term, as her arms did not reach a fourth of the machine's circumference.

It hummed again.

Darxhis laughed. "He is confused, but not objecting." He gestured to Tamax. "You too, if you desire."

Tamax stood slowly, hesitation visible in him. He looked to Darxhis, then to Miriks. She nodded and tilted her head. He approached the Servitor and rounded it, then after a pause, embraced it gingerly. Darxhis chuckled, and Miriks allowed herself a laugh as well, tension leaving her.

"Good night, Kaltis!" Liriks said happily.

After a moment came a very uncertain, "Good night, Servitor…"

Kaltis hummed in reply.

Miriks stepped forward, and the kiks came to her, Liriks looking down in the picture of perfect obedience, Tamax looking a bit uncertain about everything. "Thank you, Darxhis!" Liriks cried, and he nodded in return.

"Always welcome, kella."

Miriks looked to him, and his eyes were alight again with joy. "Thank you, Archon."

He laughed, and bowed to her. She looked away; she could feel her brows beginning to glow.

"Good night, House None. Sleep well."

When they were back on the main floor, while she was trying to get the kiks to sleep, Miriks tried to keep an eye on the Servitor and his attendant. Tradition dictated that the Archon took Last Draught, and Miriks watched carefully the aspiring machinist.

She did not see Darxhis take a portion.

This troubled Miriks, as she lay beside her kiks to sleep. Why was that? Had he taken it earlier? Surely he needed it to regain his arms. The answer came as she drifted away into dreams of Light. Darxhis had none for himself, because he had given his share to them.


	7. Chapter 7

The Titan sat, studying the transponder. His gaze did not leave it, even as the Hunter strode up to him and perched on the ancient bench, looking over his shoulder. "Whatcha readin'?"

"The words on these nodes… they're all poetry. You know I have a soft spot for poetry."

She snorted. "I'm just glad it's usually the good kind. My question is; why is Mithrax giving us poetry? Wasn't he supposed to be guiding us to some important place or another?"

"I'm… not sure. Sadaria took a look and saw that when all nodes were added, it would give us some extra information, but as it is, without the nodes it is digitally incomplete."

The Hunter nodded, understanding. "And none of us are experts on Fallen tech, either."

"Eliksni," the Titan corrected absently, turning over the transponder over in his hands.

The Hunter looked at him. "What?"

"They call themselves Eliksni."

"...ok?"

There was a pause. The Warlock rose over the ridge and dropped beside them, the barrel of her blocky scout rifle smoking. "There were some Fallen, but the Cabal came in. The signal is still there, but buried beneath interference. I might have kicked the nest a bit."

"In what numbers?"

"A squad or four."

The Titan and Hunter rose. "Perfect," said the Hunter, checking the chamber of her hand cannon, decorated along its length with a single ace of spades. "Let's kill us some Red Legion. I've been itching for another fight with those space rhinos."

"Don't forget the fifth node, Tiana, that's what we're here for." This said, the Titan readied his multi-barreled auto rifle. "I have a feeling the sixth isn't too far away."


	8. Chapter 8

Miriks shrugged the bag over her back. Liriks and Tamax followed suit, reluctance in their postures, but they did not protest any further. Miriks had been firm.

They were leaving.

The node was broadcasting their signal to the approaching Guardians, and if Miriks wanted to protect her new friends from their fury, she needed to remove herself and the node from the Drain, as soon as possible. Sekris and Canikos had left early in the morning for a raid on a nearby Cabal installation, they would most likely not return until after dark. Miriks looked over to where Kaltis hovered; Darxhis was nowhere to be seen, but she wouldn't seek him out. It would be a small pain, but a pain nonetheless. It would be easier without goodbyes.

And maybe one day she would return, to try and convince some.

"Come." She reached out, and both kiks took her hands in theirs, and they began the walk towards the steps. They drew several curious glances from Eliksni doing common work, but none commented or made moves to stop them. They ascended the steps, making their way to one of the several exits to the Drain. The guards, a pair of Wretches, noted their approach. The first straightened, grip firm on his weapon, and the other's bleary gaze sharpened upon seeing her. Miriks continued without pause, trying to show confidence. The guards stepped forward, blocking her path.

"Halt, Eliksa," said the first, distinguished by chains of dangling beads draping his helmet in the style of Winter.

"I wish to pass with my kiks."

The second answered, words slightly slurred together. "Wish is denied," He gave a harsh chuckle, and Miriks regarded him with distaste. He was entirely different than his companion, rough and bedraggled, and she could see the lack of care in his appearance.

She set her shoulders. "Why so? I am free to leave, yes?"

The second made to answer, but the first spoke over him. "No. I'm sorry, but the Captain has instructed all guards to reject your leaving, Miriks of None."

"The Eliksa to be spending more time on her consideration, yes?" The second closed two eyes, but the expression was not friendly; the other eyes were narrowed. "Maybe she becomes used to this place, yes, wants to stay with other Eliksni."

Miriks shuddered. Something was wrong with the rough guard's eyes and after a moment of analysis Miriks realized; he stank of danksleave. The familiar stench wormed its way into her mind, and Miriks shook her head to clear it away, forcing back unwelcome memories. She gestured to her kiks, and they nodded, letting go of her hands and retreated a small distance. They knew to stay away when sleave was involved.

She appealed to the first guard, thinking quickly. "Eliksni, I need to leave as soon as possible, please let us go."

He shook his head, beads rattling. "I cannot do that. Why do you have to leave, anyway? This is a good place, yes?"

"Yes, but-"

"Maybe she not truly houseless," the second drawled, stepping towards her slowly. "Maybe she is a spy."

Miriks did not try to protest; she hoped the sensible guard did not suspect such a thing. She spoke calmly. "I am to meet someone soon, and cannot be held beyond that."

The second guard laughed again, a grating sound; the years of breathing danksleave had begun the degeneration of his vocal chords. "Oh? We are not good enough for you?" He reached out with an upper arm and touched her face. Miriks forced herself not to flinch back, instead narrowing her eyes. "Maybe she will come to like us, yesss…"

The first guard spoke then. "Salix, cease this, or I'll report you to the Captain."

Salix chuffed a scoffing laugh. "Shut up, Paxhis, we both know he wants her too." His hand stroked her cheek, continuing lower until he was brushing her throat.

Miriks spoke deliberately. "If your hand continues on its path, you will lose it."

Salix's eyes were blurry as he barked a laugh, and he did not back away. "Ha! You are just a female, and I like this fire." He licked his lips. "It adds flavor."

"Mother!" Tamax called from behind, realizing what was occurring, and she could sense his readiness to defend her.

"Tamax, remain!" she shouted.

"Yes, remain, little one," Salix muttered, his foul breath making her sick. "You can have her back when I'm done." His hand continued lowering, brushing her collarbone.

Miriks bared her fangs.

In a twisting flash of movement she knocked his hand away from her breast, and then, in one smooth motion, Miriks focused her strength and shoved him backwards, sending the lanky guard reeling back. He fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, his arcstaff clattering to the ground beside his shocked figure.

Miriks spat at the dirt between his feet.

It took Salix a moment to realize what exactly had happened, eyes dazed and wandering from Miriks to his position on the ground. Then they sharpened and filled with rage. "You dregborn daughter of the pit!" he screamed, spittle flying from his jagged mouth. He leapt to his feet and swung his arcstaff in an indiscriminate sweep, motions driven by sleave's reckless energy. Miriks dropped under the blow, drawing her knives.

Paxhis had readied his own weapon and was looking for an opening to strike at his frenzied companion, but Miriks shouted out, "I claim Right of Virtue!" Not waiting for a reply, she reached out and slashed a strip from his ragged cloak, tearing it away and jumping back to avoid his next stab. Salix slashed again, recklessly advancing, and she used both blades to parry his blow into the ground. She dropped one knife and kicked upwards, her clawed foot taking him in the face, and she felt something give in his mouth. Salix stumbled backwards, spitting a tooth from his bloodied maw, then looked at her with an expression of the utmost loathing. "You won't live to regret that, kasina!"

She met his eyes and spoke slowly, winding the dirty strip of cloth around two fingers. "I have met humans with more honor than you."

The Eliksni howled and charged. His first thrust was quick, and the sparks of arc energy along the blade grazed her side, sending flickers into her muscles. But Miriks remained firm. She leapt forward, too close for another strike, and she slammed her open palm into his screaming face, shoving the rag into his open mouth. He choked, and with her remaining blade Miriks wrenched the spear from his grip. Hooking a foot behind his, she shoved the Wretch to the ground once again, sending him tumbling. This time, she followed him down.

Miriks planted her knee on his arm, halting his attempt to rise again. With one hand she gripped his throat, and the other held her blade to his scrabbling hand. "What a shame it would be," she stated casually as he struggled, "for you to lose one of only two hands. It would take _cycles _to grow it back, yes?"

The Wretch's eyes were wide and movements panicked -he having just remembered how to breath through his nose -but at her words, he froze. A small crowd of Eliksni had gathered, along with several other guards, who pointed staves in confusion at the pair of them. She pressed down slightly on her blade, drawing a line of blue blood, new ether leaking from the wound. Miriks bared her teeth once more. "All that time, useless to your Captain. It would be a wonder if he didn't leave you to the Cabal."

Salix looked at her with rising terror, and Miriks relished in it. She had once been helpless, and had time and time again found herself at the mercy of Eliksni like this. But those days were far behind her. She felt herself pressing the knife harder on the Wretch's wrist, and then she forced herself to relieve the pressure. Her life was different now, and she had been shown a new path. She had to live up to it.

Miriks lifted his head and slammed it into the packed earth, dazing him, his frantic strength leaving his form. "Learn your lesson," she spat, and Miriks released him. She stood, kicking away his arcstave and glaring at the surrounding guards.

Paxhis answered the unspoken question. "He is the problem, not she. Take him to the cave, to wait upon the Captain's verdict." A pair of Vandals approached and pulled the beaten Wretch up, restraining him with some arms while others held weapons at the ready. Salix still couldn't say anything, too stunned to remove the improvised gag as they carried him away. Once he was out of sight, Miriks allowed herself to relax, and looked to where Liriks and Tamax watched with wide eyes. She knelt, and they ran to her with cries of relief.

"Mother, that was amazing!" Tamax shouted, embracing her, "you beat him so easily!" She did not reply; as her adrenaline faded, she found she had no idea what to say.

Liriks said nothing, just clutched Miriks's side desperately.

Paxhis approached hesitantly, and Miriks regarded him, standing. "It is by your Captain's orders that I remain?"

He nodded.

"Then I will not push the issue." Miriks shoved down her rising frustration, gathered her bag again, and moved to walk back to the floor of the Drain.

"Eliksa, what-" Paxhis said, then hesitated. "What was the lesson you meant? For Salix to understand?"

She shrugged, not bothering to turn back. "It doesn't matter. Only that he learns something."

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Liriks tugged on her mother's cloak. "Did… are you all right?"

"Eia, kika, do not worry for me."

"Mother…" Tamax began, hesitant. "So, that was a situation where violence is needed?"

She sighed. "Tamax, yes. Yes, it was. I… I should have tried harder to contain the conflict..."

"But you challenged him," Tamax finished.

Miriks narrowed two eyes. "Exactly, my observant kiko. It was not the right choice."

"But he deserved it," Tamax stated, a young growl edging his words. "And you did teach him a lesson, yes. That dreg." He spat the last word.

"A person's worth is not based on their status, Tamax. Remember, I am still a dreg, technically."

His eyes widened and he looked up at her in astonishment. "I'm sorry, mother!"

"It is fine, just remember, kiko."

If he would say anything else, he was interrupted by a figure running to them.

"Miriks!" It was Darxhis, and Miriks looked down at herself before facing him. The dust from her scuffle was all over her ragged garments, but her hands were taken by the kiks, and she decided to try and not care.

"Vel, Darxhis."

"I saw, from a distance." His eyes were wide, sincere. "Are you well? What happened?"

"I am well-"

"Mother destroyed a less-than-dreg! It was amazing!" Tamax jumped once, and Liriks looked torn between holding her mother safe and greeting her older Eliksni friend.

Miriks hushed Tamax with a hand. "We tried to leave, and were not allowed past. One was unable to restrain his desires, and was put in his place."

"Oh… I am glad you are safe. He did not... infringe on virtue?" The last phrase was hesitant, but Miriks was simply surprised he even knew the concept.

"He tried. He failed."

Darxhis sighed in relief and closed two eyes. "That, I am glad to hear." He opened all eyes again quickly. "Not that I ever doubted your skills in self defense. But, why to leave, Miriks? Is there anything I can help you with?"

Miriks sighed as the pressure mounted on her heart. She hadn't been able to save these, those good Eliksni, by simply leaving. She thought long and hard.

Darxhis tilted his head, concern visible in his gaze, as she considered all her options.

Miriks held out a hand. "Darxhis. If you truly desire to help me, pledge not to tell any of what I will tell you."

His hesitation was less than a blink, if it even was. Darxhis reached out and took her hand in his. "Anything, Miriks. I pledge."

She could not stop two eyes from closing. He was so quick to help, so selfless, so… true.

Miriks shook her head and met his gaze, eye for eye. "Meet me, southwest corner, after the raid teams return and the Captain has retired. I have much to explain."

Darxhis nodded solemnly, releasing her hand. "I should be done with predictions by then. I will meet you."

She tried not to miss the warmth of his hand. "Eia." A pause. "Thank you."

He bowed slightly, closing two eyes. "Of course. Fare well until then." He bowed again, lower, to each of the kiks, making Liriks giggle, then strode away without a backward glance.

Miriks brought her hand to her chest. This changed everything. Tonight, she would tell all. Tonight, she would speak of Light.


	9. Chapter 9

Darxhis was the last one to sit, eyes sober. He looked uncertain what to say, but spoke anyway. "Good night, fair warrior and husband."

Sekris looked up and Canikos laughed, lightly shoving the smaller male. "Careful with your words, machinist, to call her fair is to risk the wrath of Sekris. Why the formality?"

Darxhis closed two eyes, but the expression was half-hearted. "I know not, only that I was summoned with a… not-light heart." He looked to Miriks, concerned, who watched them all.

"I think there is more than that," Sekris stated, and Miriks winced internally. Sekris was impatient, having waited for first her husband then Darxhis to arrive. Canikos had noted this, and put an arm around her. She grudgingly let it remain.

The ring of Eliksni was small, four of them facing each other away from most of the others, many of which were sleeping. The kiks were already asleep, less than five feet from their circle, and they spoke quietly so not to wake them.

"Yes, why did you want us to meet, Miriks?" Canikos was more curious, but Sekris's eyes were piercing.

Miriks looked up. "There are… some reasons. One of them is the answers to your questions, Sekris."

"Which ones?" she rejoined with narrowed eyes.

"Why I am here, and what the Eliksni taught me on my journey to Earth." Miriks met her eyes. "You still desire answers to these things?"

Sekris nodded slowly. "Yes. But I do not understand why you are answering at night, and why my husband had to find a trade for his watch duty." She crossed two arms.

Miriks leaned forward, trying not to show her worry. "Because it is you three I trust most. There is a weight on my heart that I have to let go, and it is potentially a danger as well."

There was a silence at that point. Darxhis nodded. "Well, I am ready to hear whatever you desire to tell.

She nodded to him, grateful. "I… I do not know where to start. But I know that I must say this." She looked around the circle, meeting eyes in turn. "The Eliksni are dying."

There was a grim silence. Canikos seemed uneasy at the dark subject, and Sekris merely looked down.

Darxhis nodded. "We've been dying since the House Wars."

"Your captain said something to me, yesterday. That if we don't stand together and fight, then we will all fall in the Darkness. I've seen it, time and time again. Who have you lost?" She looked around, then motioned. "It was not a vain question, who have you lost? I lost my husband Vanox and kika Eriska to the Vex. Dead by Hobgoblin snipers."

Canikos raised a hand, the motion almost shy. Miriks nodded. He lowered it and entwined his fingers, gaze dark. "I lost my father Alkatis to the Cabal. The Incendior laughed as he burned."

"My sister Karis," Sekris said, her voice hoarse. "Swallowed by a Taken Blight."

"My mentor Lantiks, who once served the Archon of Kings." Darxhis did not look up. "Thousands of years of knowledge, life, soul, gone with one human bullet."

They paused to consider the lost, and the darkness around them seemed to press closer. Miriks shivered. She had called upon the dead to testify. She could not hide their testimonies now. "When I was still young, our Ketch was attacked by a fleet of Hive. The House of Stone was strong, and we fought them, destroying several of their ships. Sensing our strength, the flagship emerged from the void in which it hid. Their commander boarded our ship, to claim our lives with his own sword. We were called upon, all who were able-bodied. I had been taught to fight, and answered the call eagerly, against my father's clear instructions. My brothers and I ran to aid him as he sought to bring down the Shadow."

Miriks clenched her fists. "I had faith that the Light would aid us. I had faith that, with our pure hearts and sure hands, against these, the vilest of enemies, that we would be victorious. We fought through hordes of Hive, falling one by one, until only I remained."

Miriks's voice broke, and she bowed under the weight of memory. Darxhis placed a hand on her back, and she accepted the reassurance gladly. But she could not stop. "We ran to the helmroom, feeling the reverberations of mighty blows shaking the deck beneath us. I entered to see my father fighting Oryx, the King of the Taken." The other Eliksni gasped, but she went on, disregarding them. "The Archon was dead against the wall, crushed like a dreg, and I feared." Miriks's breath caught, and a light mist of ether began leaking from the corners of her eyes. No matter how hard she closed them she could not stop it. "By the Machine, how I feared." She swallowed and went on. "My fears were not in vain. And as my father fought, I heard his words, his last, shouted plea." Miriks forced herself to look up, meeting the other Eliksni in the eyes. They returned her gaze. "'Where is the Great Machine? Where is the Great Machine?'"

Miriks forced herself to continue, fighting against the choke of her throat. "His last words, spoken in sorrow, in despair. Oryx killed him, and Chelchis, the Kell of Stone, the guardian of the houseless, leader of those who had fallen, was no more. And then Oryx looked to me, sword in hand." Miriks saw again that terrifying three-eyed gaze, the complete disregard of Light, of any life, and the awesome power tangible in the weight of the air, that had crushed planets and ended entire species. She shuddered, but the mist had gone from her eyes, and a determination had replaced it.

"And he turned away. Because he knew we had not the Light, that we would be nothing to him. And he was right. So I ran. The Hive fleet let us go, knowing that we would only be a burden to the other Eliksni of the system. I lost my faith in the Light on that day."

There was a long pause, as the words were heard. Canikos exchanged a glance with Darxhis. He spoke gingerly, as if he knew the words would be unwelcome. "So, you are… the last daughter of a Kell... yes?" Canikos clarified.

"That is _not _my point!" Miriks snapped. "What the humans call us, what they have always called us, it is true! We, the Eliksni, are _fallen_, from the Light, from the Machine's grace, and from each other. When did the Machine leave us? Do you know?"

Sekris answered slowly. "During the Whirlwind, yes?"

"It was after." Darxhis's words were somber. "When the Houses began to fight amongst themselves, when Rain was destroyed by Devils."

"And we have been lost ever since." Miriks took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm. "We have been losing as well. Family, friends, houses, lives, purpose, everything. We came to regain the Light of the Machine, not knowing we were no longer worthy of it, and now we are scattered. Do you see? Do you see my words?"

"I do." Darxhis was quiet.

"First Stone, Winter, Devils, Kings, and Wolves," Canikos counted them on his fingers. He looked up. "When will Dusk fall? I see your words, Miriks of none."

"I see your words, but not your purpose for speaking them." Sekris's voice was a growl. "Why do you say such things? To remind us of what we have lost? To rub our pain in the eyes of those that came before? _Why_, Miriks." Sekris stood, eyes narrowed and burning, stance readied. The small red glowlight illuminated her fiercely, but Miriks did not fear her, returning her gaze eye for eye.

The tension was very suddenly interrupted by a small figure. Liriks wandered into the circle of light, small mouth opening wide in a yawn, arms stretching and eyes small and drowsy. Without a word, she stumbled into Mirik's side and attempted to clamber up her leg. Miriks took the kika in her arms and held her gently, and she was soon asleep again.

Sekris had deflated at that point, and sat again. She did not speak, only stared into the light.

"You also asked how I and these survived, Sekris," Miriks began again, voice soft and calming. "Now, I will answer that. On Venus, just after I lost the two of my family, we were cornered by the pursuing Vex. Again, I feared. I had lost the light, my father and mother, my husband and daughter, and now I would lose these too? And then, something strange occurred." She took a breath, shaking her head. "We were saved by a Guardian."

"_What?!_" Canikos almost fell off his seat leaning forward, then at a trio of accusing glances, he made appeasing gestures in the direction of the sleeping kik, speaking very softly. "Sorry, um, what?"

"I'm not entirely sure he meant to, at first. The warrior tore through the lines of Vex, the Light in his fists, ending the threat to our lives in almost an instant. And then he saw us."

Miriks remembered the towering armored being, a massive repeating rifle in his hands, its barrel red and smoking. She remembered his obvious shock and curiosity upon seeking the kiks, and her fear. She laughed softly. "The human, using limited communication, pointed out a way out of the ruins, away from the Vex. And then he was gone. We took the path, and did not see another Vex thereafter."

"I have heard some stories of that like," Darxhis said. "Humans and their Guardians are much like us, in that they have mainly been interested in survival and defense for the majority of the time we have known them, not conquest."

"And I have heard stories of the opposite, of them relentlessly destroying the Eliksni, in whatever form we took." Sekris's voice was hard, and low. "Their Saint-14, the greatest hunter of Eliksni. Killed the Kell of my parent's house."

"And what of our Taniks, who massacred hundreds of humans _and _Eliksni in his battles hunting Guardians?" Miriks rejoined. "None are blameless here, and that is also beside the point. I was spared by a human." She looked around. "And they were chosen by the Light. We've all seen it, the power gained by worthiness, used to destroy darkness and Eliksni alike. Like my father realized, we are no longer worthy of the Machine's blessing."

Silence followed her words. Darxhis was nodding slowly, and Canikos looking warily at Sekris, who stared at her feet. Miriks took a slow breath, hoping that her words would be enough.

"But, we do not have to remain fallen."


	10. Chapter 10

Sekris growled. "Oh, so you've found a way to regain the light, yes? Just dance right into the human City, right up the Great Machine, trusting humans not to slaughter us like they always have? Like that ethersick remnant of Judgement, who even now seeks to become the Kell of Kells? Or is it just like the fools in Kings when we first arrived, who killed themselves because they thought they would be Chosen?" She leaned forward, teeth bared. "Choose your next words carefully, Miriks of Stone and Light. Even as much a friend as you are and we have been, I will walk away right now, and you or nobody will be able to stop me."

"I tried that as well." The words were soft, and their suddenness took the warrior by surprise. "I walked, no, ran away." Miriks met Sekris's eyes. "And as far as I ran, death and sorrow followed me." Miriks's heart moved for the hardened Eliksa, her eyes cast about in doubt. Sekris had only ever seen the world as darkness trying to consume her, and Miriks knew that fear. Miriks moved closer, careful so as not to wake Liriks. Sekris's eyes widened when Miriks reached out and touched the side of her face. It was an intimate gesture, of that between sisters, or of a mother to her daughter. Miriks leaned and rested her forehead on Sekris's shoulder for a moment "I do not want the same to happen to you, Sekris. Especially when those you love, now and in your future, are at risk. Please, hear my words."

Sekris did not reply immediately, and Miriks raised her head and lowered her hand, gently stroking her sleeping daughter's small ridges of dark hair. Sekris looked to Canikos, who was watching them with great uncertainty. He nodded and touched his wife's shoulder, tilting his head reassuringly. Sekris's next words were halting. "But… if you had stood instead of fled, the darkness would have swallowed you."

"Then, I was alone." Miriks took Sekris's hand. "Now, I am not."

Sekris looked to her. Then she nodded. "No. You are not."

Darxhis nodded at that, determination filling his stance. Canikos relaxed visibly at his wife's acceptance, then closed two eyes to Miriks, gesturing for her to go on. Before she could, Sekris spoke again. "Tell me of the others you stand with. I want to know, and will try not to judge you."

Miriks dove in. Hopefully she had said enough to prepare them for what she was to say. "I was found by one called Misraaks, a Captain. He had been spared by humans on multiple occasions, and has realized there is nothing to be gained by the ways the lightless Eliksni have always walked. Instead, he has sought the Light on his own terms, helping the houseless and trying to gain the trust of those worthy of that Light. This is why he, and I, call ourselves of the House of Light."

Consideration followed her words, and Canikos raised a hand. Miriks gestured. The tall Eliksni regarded her. "Then this Misraaks, he directly allies himself with humanity, yes?"

Miriks struggled with a reply. "The Guardians and the City… they do not yet know him as a whole. But-" She raised a finger. "He is close friends with a pair of Light-bearers. They together are a fireteam, as they are called."

Sekris groaned. "Miriks, we know you mean humans when you say 'Light-bearers', or 'worthy of the Light'. Do not avoid the race name, I am getting impatient with its replacement."

Miriks lowered her head, abashed. "You are right. I'm sorry."

Darxhis leaned forward. "Miriks, have you seen them? Those Guardians?"

"Yes. I did not speak to them, but I have seen them in his presence. They act as siblings." Miriks waved her hand. "But that is beside my original goal. I must tell you of my reasons for coming to the Drain in the first place." Without ceremony, Miriks scooped up Liriks's sleeping form, and proferred her to Sekris. The other female was shocked, but took the kika without words.

Miriks pulled the node from its place and held it out where they all could see. "This was given to me by Misraaks. It, along with five of its fellows, keeps the location of a secret place. I was to drop it here, leaving it... " She took a breath. "Leaving it for a Guardian to collect." She regarded their stunned surprise and backpedaled hastily. "I did not know that there would be anyone here! Neither Misraaks! I was to drop, and then wait to be picked up in another location, but then... " She looked helplessly at the sleeping and guarding Eliksni of the Drain. "You of Dusk were here, and proved to be more than hospitable." She looked at Darxhis while saying that, and he noted the attention with a slight brightening of his brows. "I tried to leave, simply make the Guardians follow me instead. But then the Captain forced me to stay, endangering us all. So my methods... required a change," she finished. "That is why I have brought you all here."

"So any doom that comes, it was you that brought it upon us," Sekris clarified without emotion, and Miriks winced.

"I… Eia. I take all responsibility."

The silence between them widened. Sekris held the small kika in two of her arms tenderly, not meeting Miriks. "Where do we start, then."

Miriks blinked. "What?"

"Where do we start?" Sekris repeated, louder. She faced Miriks. "You have brought this upon us, what do you plan to do?"

Miriks looked down at the node, forcing her mind to leave the past and focus on the present. "I had wondered that I might be able to head the guardians off before they enter the Drain. That way any confrontation with anyone besides myself might be avoided," she sighed. "But…"

"The Captain," Sekris finished. Nods bobbed around the circle. He had already barred them once, he would most likely do so again.

"Is he known to change his mind?" Miriks asked without much hope.

Canikos barked a laugh, then looked in horror as Liriks stirred. The kika took a long breath, then turned slightly in Sekris's arms.

Darxhis closed two eyes at the abashed warrior, but opened them again and shook his head solemnly. "He has a firm mind. Naksar did not get where he is now by having a changeable will."

"But being unwilling to hear new ideas will not help him go any farther," Miriks stated. "What if I were to tell him, directly?"

Sekris shook her head. "No. He will see that as a betrayal. I believe he would not let you live, even if he did believe you."

Darxhis hummed a discordant note. "I do not agree. With correct manipulation, I think he could be brought to an understanding without wounding his pride."

Canikos gestured for their attention. "That is not a good idea, any way we look at it. I think all would be better if he never knew." He leaned forward. "Besides, our goal is to just get Miriks away, yes? What if we make some grand distraction? Then the House of Light can escape when attention is away from them."

Sekris shook her head. "My foolish one, do you forget so easily? Every tunnel will be guarded by at least four warriors, she cannot possible get through without drawing attention. The Captain will chase them."

Canikos had no reply, and drew a hand to his chin in thought.

After a pause, Darxhis spoke next. "I am... not a strategist, but I think we are forgetting what we have to work with." All eyes drew to him. "Canikos, you are a Marauder. What is the difference between you and a Vandal?"

Canikos answered immediately and with confidence, glad to know something of a surety. "Why, that's easy! My lightbender, of course…" His voice carried onward, realizing the implication. His face fell.

"There!" Darxhis snapped with two fingers and closed his eyes. "We can still have your grand distraction! And now she can sneak past the guards as she wills."

"It can't grant reflection to three Eliksni, not matter how small the other two," Sekris replied bluntly.

Canikos let out a sigh of relief, but clapped Darxhis on the back, almost sending the smaller Eliksni off his seat. "Nice idea! Worthy of the Trickster herself!"

Miriks looked up in thought and held up a finger. "Sekris, how about…" She turned and pulled one of the two blankets from her bag. It was the cleanest thing she owned, large and patterned with blue wrenki in the shape of Stone, but its age could be seen in its ragged edges. She pointed at Canikos. "Eliksni, may I see your lightbender?"

He sighed but pulled out the small device. "It's old, but has never failed me."

Miriks nodded her thanks, and attached it to the blanket. It was a simple device and she switched it on, all watching curiously, Sekris even leaning forward to get a better look. A shimmer of blue light, and the wide piece of cloth faded until only slight flickerings of blue could be seen, visible in dark but would be well hidden in any greater amount of light. Miriks's lower body could not be seen underneath it. Appreciative mutters from Darxhis and Canikos, and Sekris nodded, eyes wide.

"I think I've heard of others using that, but have never seen it," Canikos said.

"I can fit myself and the kiks under this, and we can escape during your distraction." She looked to Canikos and closed two eyes. "I'll leave the lightbender somewhere you can recover it, that is acceptable, yes?"

He chuckled. "Eia, I thank you, Miriks."

Sekris steepled the fingers of two hands, the others still cradling Liriks. "Now that's out of the way, what shall the distraction be? I could start a fight, it wouldn't be the first time." She narrowed two eyes in response to Miriks's curious glance. "Salix isn't the only skitbag in this Drain."

Miriks laughed at her matter-of -fact tone. "No doubt here. I'm surprised there is so few."

Canikos gestured uncertainly at his wife. "I wasn't one of those, was I?"

"You were just the best skitbag. And you had nice guns."

"Aw, thank you, my bright... wait."

"I don't want any of you to get in trouble because of me," Miriks said, "Any other ideas for a distraction?"

Darxhis raised a hand. "What if we used the real threat as a distraction? Claim the sensors are detecting Guardians approaching? This way, even if the timing is off, then the Drain will still be in a state of evacuation."

Miriks nodded, closing two eyes. "Ah, I really like that idea, Darxhis."

He beamed at her praise.

"Yes, it would be the best way to protect everyone," Sekris said, considering. "But how will we fool the sensors? The Captain would be sure to look twice at a threat that large."

"What if it is a firsthand account?" Darxhis leaned forward, eyes narrowed in thought. "Maybe I can leave early in the morning, then come in claiming to have seen them?"

Canikos shook his head. "No, you're too valuable to the Drain. I can do it."

Miriks closed two eyes to him, but Sekris tilted her head skeptically. "Husband… Will he trust you?"

"I can take a few of my warriors and pay them to witness me." Canikos shrugged. "Or trick them. I can tell a good story."

"Of that, there is plenty of proof," Sekris said, looking up with all four eyes.

"So, after the distraction," Miriks said over them, "I and kiks will leave through the least guarded exit, escape the Drain, and then leave the node somewhere else for the Guardians to find. They will find it, and all will be well."

A silence.

"What then?" asked Darxhis.

"Yes," Sekris stated, folding her spare arms. "And then you leave? What was the point of your long talk of Light and joining together then?"

"Well, I…" Miriks began, uncertain of how to phrase. "It would be wonderful if any of you -if you desired- to come with me, and meet Misraaks for yourself. To join the House of Light." She sighed. "But that, I fear, is not possible now. You all have places here, of importance," she glanced at Darxhis at that. "I was thinking, of persuading Misraaks to come back here, meet with your Captain. Misraaks is good with words, and might be able to persuade Naksar to let you join with us..." Miriks realized her ramblings and quieted, looking at the ground.

Sekris chuckled, a sincere sound. "You mistake our loyalty, Miriks." She looked up in surprise. Sekris carefully handed Liriks back to her, and Miriks held the small kika gently, still confused. "I have no ties to Dusk. It is not my home, the best thing it ever gave me was my husband." Sekris shook her head, two eyes closed, the last shining with a determined light. "My father and mother were of Devils." She opened her eyes, almost pinning Miriks to her spot with the strength of her scarred gaze. "And a Devil chooses her own path, rejecting anything that tries to stop her." She leaned back and shrugged, the intensity leaving her as if evaporating. "If I find your path worth walking, nothing will stop me." She gestured to Canikos. "But I think my path is already decided, because of something interesting my husband has to tell you, Miriks of Stone and Light. I'm honestly surprised he held it in for this long."

Miriks looked to him with wide eyes, and Canikos closed two of his. "Oh, I can wait a while longer." He gestured to the Eliksni beside him. "You can go first, Darxhis. Tell us your tale."

Darxhis blinked, obviously taken by surprise that Canikos had passed on a turn to tell a story. He coughed once. "Uh, well, there is something that most in the Drain do not know, and that Naksar would rather them not know." He shifted position slightly, narrowing two eyes. "Kaltis is not his Servitor. He is mine."

"What? Explain yourself," Sekris demanded.

"I rescued him from the wreckage of the Ketch of Kings, when he was just a drone. When I arrived here, there was none to care for the near-dead Servitor that Naksar had, and rather than try to save it with the little I knew, I began to modify Kaltis using the old Servitor as a guide, to make him able to serve all the Eliksni of the Drain."

"That's right..." Canikos said, considering. "You were here before my mother and I came."

Darxhis nodded. "Kaltis serves me. I instruct him to listen to the Captain, but I could just as easily instruct him not to. The problem is, I'm sure if I did try to leave with him, Naksar would fight to keep us here." Darxhis shrugged. "I… could leave without Kaltis. But he means a lot to me." A pause. "Just thought that information might be important."

"Yes, that is important, thank you for telling us." Miriks nodded to him, processing this. She did not see much hope in him coming soon, but perhaps she could talk to Misraaks, see about getting him replaced in Naksar's eyes… She remembered a piece of the conversation. "Canikos, you had something to say as well?

The Marauder closed two eyes ruefully, reaching back to scratch his head with an upper arm. "Ah, yes. You wonder why I was curious that you were a daughter of a Kell?" he laughed, seeming almost nervous. "It's a long story, but for the sake of our sleep and of the other stories told tonight, I'll shorten it." He lowered his arm and leaned forward. "Miriks, my parents were of Stone, and I joined Dusk with my mother only after we were forced to come here." She blinked, and Canikos stood, towering over Miriks. "If you truly are the last daughter of Chelchis, He Who Stood Before the Maw, then…" He knelt before her, lowering his eyes. "You are my Kell, and I will forever follow you."

Miriks was frozen in place, mind rushing in several dozen directions at once. Someone considering she… a Kell!? It was true, she was in line, but she had never before it would actually mean anything to anyone! She felt energy creeping into her brows in surprise. "I… I… I don't..."

"Canikos, you're so dramatic!" Sekris kicked at him from where she sat. "You're scaring the poor Eliksa!"

His muscled frame did not budge under her assault, however, remaining more sober than Miriks had yet seen him. Reaching to his belt, he drew a long arcblade from its sheath, deactivating it and holding the gleaming sword out to her in two hands. "Would you accept my blade and honor as your own?"

Miriks took a breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "I… I'm no Kell, Canikos. You honor me far beyond my worth, but I have no room for the honor of others. I barely have enough to keep my family alive."

"But, my Kell, you are worth far more than the rags you wear. Sekris and I would help, protect you and your kiks." His voice was desperate. "And what of your legacy? If the Eliksni knew that Stone still lived, what good could be done?"

Panic rose in her, and she saw again the Taken King cutting her father down, heard his despairing words in her mind. She felt again the helplessness that hadn't left her until years later. Those years of running, hiding, doing whatever she could to survive, no matter their darkness, and the creeping shame that she had driven back for so long began to return, worming its way into her mind.

Miriks remembered the beginning of those dark years, to the time she had tried… and failed.

"You could rally the houseless, gather in those that seek shelter, even to the cause of your Misraaks." Canikos continued, sensing the logic as well as the conflict he was making in her mind. "You could even-"

"Canikos!" Miriks hissed, "I am no Kell!" The words were louder than she had meant, and they echoed along the side of the cavern where they met, perhaps reaching the ears of other waking Eliksni.

Liriks stirred and opened her eyes blearily. The adult Eliksni watched her as she stretched her small arms out. "A Kell?" she mumbled. "No… You're my mother. That's way better."

Sucking in a breath, trying to calm herself, Miriks clutched her kika to her chest. "You're right, small light. That is better." After several heartbeats, Canikos rose, eyes hidden, sheathing his blade. She tried to meet his gaze, showing him her doubt. "I'm sorry, brother Eliksni… I just…"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand, sister Eliksa." She reached up and touched his hand. Canikos went on, hiding his disappointment well. "We can't all be Kells, some must be mothers, yes?" He closed two eyes, still not looking at her. "It is a worthy calling." He let go and sat back beside Darxhis. Sekris had watched the entire exchange with wary eyes, carefully avoiding response.

Miriks rocked Liriks gently, until the kika had drifted off again, standing and walking the short distance to set her back beside her brother. She returned to the ring of light, to the circle of waiting Eliksni.

Darxhis began, obviously seeking to escape the strange tension Miriks had brought between them all. "How much time do we have?"

"The fifth node has not been found, but the Guardians here on Earth. We should have by noon tomorrow at the earliest."

Darxhis looked to the Marauder. "So, Canikos, you will leave around the fifth hour?"

He nodded. "That time would be best, yes." He addressed Miriks. "Be prepared to leave around the seventh."

"And if someone questions after your absence?"

"Sekris will cover for me."

"I can be persuasive when I want to be," Sekris stated with a slight narrowing of the eyes.

"Understood."

The pause continued, and Miriks pressed forward. "Thank you all very much for your help, I will forever be in your debt." Miriks met their gazes in turn, bowing slightly to each. "Sister Sekris." The scarred warrior nodded back, closing two eyes. "My Stone brother Canikos." She did not quite trip on the name of her own House, but it was close. Canikos did not move, nor say anything. Miriks swallowed but moved on. "And friend Darxhis. Thank you all."

Darxhis shook his head. "You owe me nothing, Miriks of Stone and Light. You've shown me a new way; of life and Light. That is the kind of debt that cannot be repaid." He closed eyes to her. "Even if I cannot follow you now, I will never forget you."

She closed all four eyes as warmth spread through her, almost displacing her discomfort. "Eia… I will not forget you either."

With a huff, Sekris stood. "It is best you get some rest, Miriks. You have quite the day tomorrow, yes?"

"Eia. Good night to you all."

Canikos stood as well, bowing slightly to her, then turning and walking away without another word, Sekris following.

Darxhis stood, two eyes closed. He held out an arm, and she reached out and gripped it, feeling the wiry muscles under his skin tighten as he took hers firmly. They held the contact for a moment, and his eyes sparkled in the dim light. "May the Light of your heart guide you, Miriks." She nodded, suddenly wordless. He released her and moved to walk away, then paused. "It seems... Liriks really is a kella, yes?" He gave her that human grin that she had seen before and wondered at, then Darxhis walked out into the darkness.

A strange desperation filled Miriks, that of leaving behind those that had helped her. She swallowed back the knot in her throat and knelt to turn off the glowrod. She took the lightbender and secreted it in her pocket, beside the node, and moved to where her son and daughter slept.

Miriks lay down beside them, looking up at the roof of the Drain, seeing the cracks that let in the faint starlight above. One day, Light would shine on this place. She would make sure of it.


	11. Chapter 11

Miriks sat with her kiks along the wall, pretending that she had absolutely nothing better to do than watch curiously at the bustle of the Drain. As the slight rays of early morning touched the ceiling of the cavern, the carefully ordered chaos of the House of Dusk woke up. Eliksni moved about, performing the required tasks; distributing equipment, assembling in raid teams to wait upon leadership, and generally readying themselves for anything they might come across in a day's work.

The kiks had been informed of the plan, and were doing a generally acceptable job of hiding their anxiety regarding the next step of the exfiltration. Liriks was trying to distract herself with a game of string-fingers, two hands moving restlessly to weave and wind the slender chain between and around the other two. Tamax watched the movements of the House of Dusk, eyes tracking the weapons, arc daggers and shock pistols of the dregs, shock rifles and wire snipers of the Vandals, the arc blades and scorch cannons of the Marauders, and the increasingly exotic weaponry of the higher ranks. The occasional human firearm was visible, and once Tamax tugged at Miriks's cloak to show her a Vandal carrying a thick Cabal slug rifle engraved with the insignia of the Red Legion, messily painted over with the purple sigil of Dusk.

But Miriks simply waited, and watched, the node seeming to grow heavier in her pocket with every minute. Canikos had been gone for approximately two hours, and the time for the distraction to arrive was nearing.

Sekris stood along the edge of the hole, on watch duty for one of the entrances. Her job was simple; when Canikos sounded the alarm, she would call down the passages and summon the guards back to the Drain.

There was a small and orderly commotion as Captain Naksar emerged from his shelter, moving Mirik's gaze. He was fully armed and armored, strong and prepared for the day, a shining example to his Drain. Now she had to wait on the first glance. The tall figure shouted orders, sending leaders scampering, and she waited as he strode about, looking over things to make sure of order, cataloguing his resources for the day.

Then it came. His glance around the floor of the Drain, seeking, probing. It found her, and she pretended not to notice, fussing with Tamax's hair for a moment, ignoring the kiko's protests. She sensed his approval, his pleasure at seeing her still here, in his possession. Yesterday evening, Naksar had personally approached her, asking Miriks's forgiveness in the matter of Salix's indecent behavior, which she had politely accepted. There had been no mention of his order to keep her here; he had no need to mention it. He knew she knew of it, and was now waiting for her to come before him with one of two subjects; for her to accept his offer and join Dusk, or beg for their freedom. Miriks would do neither.

She patted Tamax's head, further ignoring his grumbling, and stood, beckoning them up with her. Now for step two. They knew the step, and without complaint followed her as they moved around the edge of the Drain's floor, away from the nearest stairway up. It was a light stroll, as if she were merely stretching her limbs, and again, she kept one eye on the Captain. He was giving orders to the first raid team, but after he was finished, he looked back. Taking him several moments to find her, Naksar noted her change in position without any outward display.

He looked away again, and that was when Miriks made her move. They walked behind a stack of crates adjoining a shelter, and lowered herself to the kiks eye level. She nodded. Liriks pulled the blanket out of her bag, while Tamax took the lightbender from a fold in his small cloak, careful to keep his back to the majority of the Drain. Moving with quick hands, in another instant the family was gone, hidden beneath the lightbender's power.

They weren't too long in waiting.

"Captain!" Canikos's voice echoed through the Drain with its desperate power, and she could hear the ripples of unease spread through the Eliksni. They looked around the edge of the piles of crates just in time to see the Marauder leap down the lowest level, landing a jump of almost two dozen feet with an almighty impact. Above him several Vandals looked down warily at the distance. Canikos slid to a halt in front of Naksar, kneeling but speaking even as he did so. "A fireteam of guardians, approaching on foot, a mile or so from the northeast."

A murmur rose, of fear and apprehension, quiet now, but the title of those that bore Light struck fear into every heart, no matter how hard. Naksar narrowed two eyes. "Truly?"

Canikos nodded vehemently. "My four eyes, sir, they do not lie, we returned as quickly as we could, yes?"

He had aimed the question at the Vandals, who had arrived several seconds later, having taken the stairs. "Yes, sir," one of them said, breathing hard, eyes lowered.

"The Drain is hidden, why do you believe them to be a threat, Marauder?" Naksar asked.

Canikos nodded. "They were searching among the ruins, delving underground."

Miriks leaned closer to hear the Captain's reply, but stopped upon hearing her voice being called. It was Sekris, why was she- In a flash, the light-bending cloak was ripped from her back, and a figure crashed into her, slamming her head into the ground. Cries came from either side, and Miriks knew that her kiks had been taken as well. Dazed, she tried to rise with a growl, but four arms gripped her tightly, restraining her.

She turned her head, seeing Tamax held in the strong grip of a Vandal, eyes wide, a hand muffling his shouting.

"Do not resist, Eliksa. Your kiks are in our hands as well," a voice said, loud, meant to draw attention. "Captain! This requires your attention!"

"What is the meaning of this, Tarkis?" Naksar's voice rang with anger, and she could feel the weight of his footsteps. She was roughly pulled up, restrained by another set of arms, strong enough to retain her every struggle. She saw the Captain approaching, Canikos following behind with wide eyes.

"This Eliksa," came the voice from beside her, a large Vandal with a proud countenance. She had seen him before, adoring the Captain, trying to gain his favor. "I saw them sneaking, then hidden by this." The rustle of cloth. "I believe she was trying to escape." Miriks tried to calm herself, to look as innocent as possible, widened eyes looking up at the Captain, stopping her resistance.

"Captain," Canikos began, "whatever Tarkis has to accuse, it is of little importance compared to what I have seen. The Drain must be readied-"

"And he!" Tarkis pointed to Canikos, "Is in league with her! They were conversing at length last night, after she had failed to leave before!"

Canikos stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "You abuse a guest in the Captain's own house just to-"

In a sudden movement Naksar stamped his massive foot and roared, the fearsome sound echoing around the Drain. All froze. He stepped past Canikos, eyes blazing. "You, silence." Canikos bowed and retreated, trying to disguise his worry for Miriks as fear. Naksar turned to Tarkis. "Release her, and the kiks." The two Vandals did so, and Miriks shrugged them off. Tamax and Liriks bolted to her side, clinging to her, and she knelt to hold them and bow before the massive figure. Then the Captain turned the full weight of his glare upon Miriks. "Miriks of None. Speak for yourself. Why were you hidden, in my Drain?"

She tried not to shrink before him. There was only one thing she could say, nothing could deceive Naksar now. She took a breath and met his gaze, eye for eye. "Guardians are coming. They are following me." She swallowed her pride, and bowed unto him, her forehead touching the ground. "Honored Captain of Dusk. You _must _release me, or they will find the Drain. I don't want anyone here to be harmed because of my foolishness, so please, allow me to suffer for what I've wrought by facing them myself."

There were several silences that sprang up in the wake of her words. Darxhis had approached while the argument was commencing, and stood beside Canikos, and their silence was full of anticipation and fear. There was the silence of worried confusion from the other Eliksni, including Tarkis and his associates.

And then there was the silence of the Captain.

Cold and deep, flaring with hidden, terrible fury. He stepped forward and slowly began to pace in a circle around her and the kiks, pushing the others back by his presence. "I give you haven and hospitality, and this is how you repay me?" She could feel his eyes boring into her back. "With the threat of destruction?"

"I did not know," she said, pushing back the waver in her voice, "that the Drain was inhabited."

"Your ignorance means _nothing_ to me." The keening of steel on steel, and beside her the kiks shrunk against her. Miriks raised herself up, and reached out to hold them close, looking up to the tall figure. His sword was drawn, and he was taking deep breaths; his anger was obviously barely contained.

The smallest snarl, and Tamax pulled away from her. "No!" she cried. But she was too late; Tamax had drawn his shock dagger. He was intelligent enough not to try to strike, and instead stood in front of them both, holding a defensive stance. The Captain lowered his gaze to regard the kik, eyes burning with azure fire.

He turned away, holding the blade low. "Go."

Miriks blinked, not understanding, hand still reaching for her kiko. Captain Naksar rounded on them, teeth bared and sword brandished. "Get far from here, dreg-daughter, before my anger orders your death!" She bobbed once, took her kiks by the hand, and ran. They raced up stairs, Eliksni moving out of their way.

Behind her, the Captain roared orders, to spread out and watch, for the retreat of the craftsmen and other non-warriors, and for his lieutenants to attend him immediately. Miriks spared one last glance for Canikos and Darxhis, but they were lost in the sea of moving figures. They ducked into the darkness of the tunnel and ran, feet clattering on the ancient stones.

They ran, and Miriks thanked her ancestors for the Captain's mercy. They ran, no time for words. They ran, putting the chaos of the Drain behind them. They ran, and Miriks saw the light of morning ahead.

And new sounds were heard behind them. A clattering. A series of striking bangs. Shouts in a loud and sudden tongue. The language and weapons of humanity, overshadowing the panic-stricken cries of Eliksni.

Coldness struck Miriks to her very core and she stumbled, falling to the ground. No. _No_. Not after everything she had done.

"Mother, what is it? Are you ok?" Liriks asked; she did not know the sounds.

But Tamax did. She could see the fear strike him. He clasped her cloak. "Mother! Don't go!"

Miriks shoved her bag off her back and gave it to her son. "My beloved ones, stay here and wait on my return." She took their heads and pulled them near her own, touching her forehead to theirs. She met Tamax's eyes. "Protect your sister, yes?"

He nodded, eyes wide and beginning to trickle a mist of ether. Then Miriks went on all fours and sprinted back the way she came, towards the sound of a thousand years of war being resumed.

_Hey, thanks for sticking with it this far, it means so much, the favs, follows, and reviews. Now I only ask this of all of you; patience with this climax. It will all be released in a sequence of three days, a chapter per day, once it is all completed, to make room for my beta readers and writing friends to get a look at it. Again, thank you all so much, and I'm so excited that i made it this far! happy reading  
-pakari- _


	12. Chapter 12

The Titan fired his auto rifle, wishing he didn't have to. His bullets skimmed the edge of the sinkhole, driving the defending Vandals back down below the edge. In the brief respite, he examined the strange view before him, of an entire community of Eliksni in chaos, seemingly, _before_ their arrival. But as strange as the previously arraigned chaos was, it was not nearly the strangest thing. He took cover.

"Sadaria, Tiana, you see that on the far right?"

"Yes," The Warlock replied coolly between shots, keeping the snipers in the rocky rafters pinned down. "I see everything."

The Hunter replied next. "You mean the Captain totally losing his shards? Or the tall Marauder running around yelling with his weapons still on his back?"

"The Marauder. Looks like he's trying to get everyone else to stop shooting at us."

After a pause, the Hunter replied. "Josh, do you really think you're seeing that, or is it just something you want to see?"

"Whatever it is, I want a closer look. I'm dropping down, Tiana, cover me."

Without waiting for a reply, the Titan jumped over the cover and charged towards the rising Vandals, electricity crackling in the air around him. Recognizing that if they didn't move they would soon be dead, the Vandals leapt away, scrambling down the stairs. Grinning to himself, the Titan disengaged his shoulder charge and leapt down after them, firing his rifle aimlessly to discourage return shots. He landed heavily and, gathering the light into his forearm, summoned a barrier that towering over his position. He could see the Fallen through the shimmering shield, and their scattered chaos.

The Warlocks disgruntled tones came through. "Josh, if you sit behind that barrier for too long, they're going to start looking for other targets, namely _me_."

The Hunter slid next to him, her cloak trailing behind her, calling up, "You're a Warlock, make some pretty lights to distract them or something!" The Hunter turned to the Titan. "What's the plan? See anything interesting? And you're not allowed to say me, you've used that one already this week."

"Yes," the Titan said, helmet hiding his smile at the Warlock's grumbling over the comms, but he sobered quickly. "When we arrived the node was very distinctly in this cavern, but I think it was moving." He pulled the transponder out. "And now, it's... not."

"What?"

"It's not in the cavern at all, but-"

"Hey, guys?" came the warning from above. A roar sounded from the Fallen lines, drawing their gazes. The Captain had risen from the lines and charged, a small squad of Marauders and Vandals alongside him. The Fallen's general fire had focused, and a webbing of cracks had appeared in the Light-woven shield; it would not hold for much longer. The Hunter and Titan readied their weapons and prepared to exit cover with much return fire.

And then something happened that the Titan had never expected to see in his entire Light-lengthened lifetime. A Servitor, humming a low warbling cry, swooped in at high speed to crash right into the advancing Fallen. It bowled the smaller aliens over like so many pins, and caught the Captain against its rushing form. Without any extra movement or ceremony, the Servitor slammed the Captain into the wall of the cavern, pinning the bellowing figure there.

The Titan and Hunter paused. Then at the Fallen lines, a Vandal, dressed in gray robes, began shouting to the other Fallen, aided by the previously seen Marauder. Contention arose around them, it seemed apparent many disagreed with whatever was being said. Some glanced to the still Guardians, obviously confused as to why they were not currently being shot at, but others seemed to marvel at the fact that their ancient enemies were not returning fire. The Captain, enraged beyond belief but bound by tradition to not harm his Servitor, scrabbled uselessly at the rock wall against the machine's determined mass, shouting orders.

"Josh? What should we do?" The Hunter whispered.

He analyzed the situation. "Sadaria, are they still shooting at you?"

"No."

"Then everyone, hold your positions. I want to see where this is going." He mentally tapped on his Ghost. "Constance, what are they saying?"

She appeared beside him; her elegant black and silver shell gleaming dully. "Well they're arguing, that's certain. The two want the others to stop fighting and retreat, claiming a certain individual is coming? The Captain is shouting at one of them, demanding freedom, but I can't tell which; possibly the one in robes."

One tall Vandal took initiative, shouting at the smaller fugure and shoving him to the ground, then, turning and aiming his human-made sniper rifle, he fired in the next second. A blast of orange fire and sound; the Warlock cried out in pain.

"Sadaria! Status!?"

"What do you think?!" she snapped, coughing, "That was at least a .30 caliber round!"

"Joshua!" Constance said, "The other snipers are listening to the Captain's orders, to bring down-"

A flurry of wire rifle bolts, and the Titan could hear the Warlock's scream echoing in the cavern as well as through the comms. He cursed and rounded the corner of his barrier, his auto rifle clattering against the hopeful silence, forcing the snipers back, the Hunter's hand cannon felling two. But the damage had been done.

"I'm going Dawnblade" the Warlock gasped, "it's the only way I'm going to survive, Joshua."

"Do what you must," he ground out, "just…" He looked across at the Fallen lines, and at the brawl that had started. The two figures of the Vandal and the Marauder had been joined by a third; a scarred female, and the trio were deeply entrenched in a furious fist-and-knife battle of their own against their other house members. The Titan realized then. "Sadaria! Don't kill them, make a wall!"

He was none too late. The clear RING of the Dawnblade reverberated in the cavern, and the eyes of all were drawn to the radiant figure, wreathed in Light with wings of fire, wielding a sword of the purest flame. The Warlock cast down her fury, and the ground between the Fallen and the Guardians erupted in solar energy.

He glanced down at the node in his other hand, and his eyes widened. He looked up, seeing a rapid figure in the corner of his eye. The Hunter saw it as well and flicked up her hand cannon, aiming down sights. "Joshua! Your flank!"

"Tiana, no!"

The Ace of Spades spat once, sending the Fallen tumbling against its own momentum, and blue blood suddenly streaked the stone floor.


	13. Chapter 13

[language note! English is in brackets, Eliksni is in quotations, sorry for the first version i didn't know they wouldn't appear]  
...

Miriks gasped in pain, and realized that she couldn't take a full breath. Eyes narrowed against the agony of movement, she looked down and found that it was because one of her lungs had a large hole in it. Miriks put this out of her mind and looked in front of her, seeing the node, fallen from her hand, inches in front of her outstretched fingers. She pushed herself up, hands slipping on something coating the rock under her, but managed to take it in her hand. She was almost there.

Taking a gulp of air to steady herself, she stumbled to her feet. She could sense voices calling to her, eyes on her, but she didn't care. She had very little time left, anymore, to care about much. She set her eyes on the Guardians before her; the smaller female in a red hood that had shot her, the taller with the Light of her soul coating her in cleansing fires, landing beside her compatriots, and the last, a huge male in silver armor. Over the silent flames, she heard voices calling her name, fear in their tones. Darxhis and the others. Well, they might get a turn to see her off. But not before she had done and said what she had to.

Miriks spoke what little of their language she knew. [Guardians… send Misraaks?]

An exchanging of glances. [...yes. We know Mithrax.]

She held out the node to the male. [Here. Find him. Learn his plan.] He took it, his great metal fingers holding the piece of Eliksni tech like treasure. She met the blank masks of their faces, wishing she could search their dull eyes for emotion. [Before, we kill many humans, and Guardians kill many Eliksni, yes? So which?] She looked around at each of them. [Which, spared Misraaks?]

The smaller female nodded.

Miriks coughed, ether drifting from her wound, and her legs buckled, almost taking her to the ground, but she caught herself. The male reached as if to catch her, but stopped. She looked up, breaths heaving her broken chest, but she spoke regardless. [Do you, Guardian, believe? In him? In Eliksni future?]

The cloaked Guardian did not answer.

[I do,] said the male. [That is why I came.]

She saw the small Ghost-being near the large human. Miriks switched to Eliksni, speaking as loud as she dared. "Then, please… leave these. Their lives." She looked to the Eliksni of the Drain. "It is the only way, to trust, yes?" She shook her head. "There has been too much death, and words are not enough. Actions only matter now." She knew all were listening to her, even the Captain had fallen silent. The Ghost spoke to her Guardian, and Miriks nodded at the correct translation.

Then Miriks felt her mind growing numb, and she fell.

The large Guardian caught her, holding Miriks with a great and gentle strength. She saw Darxhis, vaulting over the dying flames, horror in his eyes. He held no weapon, and bled from several small wounds; the Guardians watched him approach warily.

The male Guardian set her carefully down on the bare rock, backing away to allow Darxhis room. "Miriks…" he said with a hollow voice, ether leaking from his eyes.

"Vel, Darxhis," she said, closing two eyes. "I am glad you are alive." She coughed violently, and she tried in vain to keep her blood from touching his robes.

He drew closer. "No, do not speak, I will try to help." He reached into his side bag, and drew out medical supplies.

She took his hand. "No."

He froze, looking at her in shock. "But... you'll die."

"I have things yet to do before that. Speak for me, please?" She turned her head. Titan The large Guardian nodded, leaning closer. Read. Node. Friend will translate. All Eliksni hear.

The Guardian nodded, and Darxhis turned around. "All of the Drain! Listen!" He had no need; all were silent as the grave. The Guardian brought forth the node, and activated the floating glyphs of Eliksni superposed over human script. He looked to her, and she nodded. The Titan and Darxhis both read, taking turns reading each line. .

["now ascend, wander, think"]

["two people both traveler-chosen"]

["two people both ruins-living"]

["two people both widow-making"]

["with lost leaders and uncertain futures"]

["together, we could be more than we are"]

Their echoes rang in the silence, until both faded. Miriks nodded. "There, Guardians. The will of Misraaks. Go now. Do what must be done."

After translation, the Titan shook his head, surprising her. He turned away. [She's dying! Sadaria, we need your rift,] he called to his companion, whose fires had gone out, and Miriks did not understand what was being said.

[Rifts won't work, Joshua. The Light doesn't touch them like it does us.]

Darxhis set to work again; she did not stop him. Let him know he had tried. "I did not know you knew such things," she said.

"My mentor taught me. Now quiet."

[I've seen you heal civilians, I know it can work.]

[It _won't_, Joshua. It's not a civilian, it's a _Fallen_.]

"Be proud of Kaltis," she said, closing two eyes. "Naksar looks so silly, hanging over there…" She giggled like a kika, and knew that her mind was losing ether. Darxhis had barely exposed the wound when Miriks heard the soft patterings of claws on stone, and she heard new voices, ones that brought more pain to her heart than any bullet could make.

"Liriks, come back! Mother said-"

"_Mother_!"

Liriks saw her first, and her cry wrenched at Mirik's soul.

[That Eliksni is a _she_, and you have to try, please, Sadaria-]

[You ever wonder why I can use my rift while surrounded by enemies, Joshua? Because the Light doesn't recognize enemies as something worth healing. It won't, and it never will!]

The kika ran past the Guardians, who jumped back at her approach in surprise. She paid them no heed, and knelt at Miriks's side, eyes wide and already full of ether, wanting to embrace her mother but held back by Darxhis's hand. Tamax came soon after, his indignance becoming shock in an instant. "Mother…?" he began, but could not finish.

The Guardians looked on, arguing silenced.

"My beloved ones... " She reached out a hand and touched their heads one after the other. "It was an accident. Promise me, you will not hate them for this."

Tamax bared his teeth, trying to appear strong. "I… You do not hate them? They shot you!"

"No. Remember, hate is of darkness."

"Even if... " he gulped back a shudder. "But… father gone… now you…"

"Misraaks will come, raise you in the Light. I know it."

[Then, Sadaria, the only thing you have to do is to think of her as something other than an enemy.]

[Joshua…]

[It's the only way. Sadaria, I beg you.]

A pause. Then a sigh. [I need Constance.]

[She's yours.]

The Warlock moved to stand beside Darxhis, who eyed her narrowly but said nothing. The Ghost floated beside her. She spoke, and the Ghost translated. "Eliksni." Darxhis looked to her. "I will attempt to heal with Light. Please move aside, the children too."

"No!" Liriks said, small eyes narrowed. "We're not leaving!"

Darxhis looked to Miriks.

"Despite your efforts, Vandal, she will die. Move."

Miriks nodded. Darxhis stood, leaving his equipment on the ground. He stepped over her and knelt beside the kiks. He met their eyes. "The power of the Great Machine will heal her. We have to back up, though, yes?"

"The Great Machine?" Liriks said, eyes widening.

"You have faith in the Light, yes? And you love your mother?"

Liriks nodded, ether drifting from her eyes.

"Then come now." He held out his arms, and after a moment Liriks let him pick her up. Tamax refused his other arm, but backed away regardless.

The Warlock took a breath, and spread her arms wide. With a flourish, she shoved her hand towards the ground, and a circle of pulsing Light erupted from the earth around Miriks and the Guardian.

A rush of power, of energy, tangibly passed by her, like a wind. She felt the Light rushing, flowing, around her as a river wound around a stone. But it did not touch her.

Drawn to it, some of the other Eliksni, led by Canikos and Sekris, approached. Those who had resisted earlier remained behind, but their curiosity was plain. But Miriks's view of them was blurred, now. Breathing came harder, and each rise of her chest felt like the air was being sucked through the hole punched in her. The pool of her blood had spread, but the Warlock knelt in it, staining the hem of her colorful robes. She looked to the Titan, unsure of what to say.

He simply nodded to her.

And then, to all's surprise, the Warlock removed her helmet. Dark hair brushed the woman's face, her Awoken-blue eyes shining even in the Light of the rift. She took the smaller Eliksni in her arms, cradling her like a kika, and Miriks could feel the press of her armor. "What is your name?"

"Miriks."

"I am Sadaria Sonu. I became a Guardian over two hundred years ago, and I will admit, I've never asked a Fa- an Eliksni their name before."

"It is an honor to be the first. Sadaria Sonu." Miriks tried to nod, but her head fell back instead. She had to fight to keep the black away from the edges of her vision.

The Warlock propped her up. "First name works. Who are these, may I ask? These children?"

"They are my kiks. Their names are Tamax, and Liriks."

"Tell me of them." The woman's gaze was neutral, yet determined.

"They are six and three rotations old." Miriks closed two eyes, struggling to gather thought. "Tamax wants so much to be like his father, a warrior, and he is as brave and strong as he can possibly be. Liriks doesn't know what she is yet, but I know she will be a fine mother, she cares so much for others and their hearts." The kiks swelled up at her words with pride, and now Tamax was openly crying as well.

"Who is your husband? That Vandal?" The woman nodded to Darxhis, whose eyes widened at the remark.

Miriks laughed weakly, sight spinning before her. "No, my husband is dead. Darxhis is my friend, he gave us ether when none else could help us. He will be a great leader and father one day, I am sure of it. The Servitor is his."

"The one that smashed the Captain off his feet?"

"Yes, the same. We are all very proud of him." Miriks chuckled again, and Sadaria smiled. "Tell me of you, yes? Are you a mother?"

Sadaria shook her head. "No… I have often thought of it, however. I do have many who have called me teacher, and I have a younger sister, who sometimes feels enough like a child. I guess having being like that for someone, regardless of blood, is what matters..." She cocked her head, uncertain. ["Et]?

"Eia, you say it as, [et]."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

The darkness began to close in on her, but with what remained of Miriks's sight she saw a smile on Sadaria's face just as Miriks closed two of her eyes. A pause, and Miriks reflected that touching a heart in your last moments was possibly the best way to spend them.

Then, as an island in the sea of numbness, she felt. A prick, a rustling. A seed of… something planted in her heart. The brush of a kind wind in her soul. The soothing waters, cleansing her body and mind. The feeling of ether, filling her to the brim with life. But also, the echo of a roar, a flash, a thunder of something so much greater than wind, water, or ether.

And then the Light touched Miriks. Energy filled her, fixed her, _freed _her, and she let out a gasp of ether as her wounds began to close, blood filling the reconnected veins, both lungs filling fully with every life-seeking breath, muscles re-knitting to make her strong again. She felt the searching Light correct every scratch, every ache, every old wound, the oldest scars reforming and closing. The rushing power made her whole again, and Miriks knew without even a shadow of doubt, that she, and every Eliksni that lived, had been given a path to walk again. No more wandering, no more searching, and no more despairing. The Light was here, and it was willing to touch their lives once again.


	14. Chapter 14

The healing probably took less time than it seemed to. When Miriks began to be aware of her surroundings again, she was in a different set of arms; four of them. Darxhis held her now, and she was breathing the ether of his soft tears.

"Mother, mother, you yet live? Please speak?" Tamax's voice was loud, and she could feel him tugging at her arm.

"Your mother lives, kiko," Darxhis stated softly, "I feel her breaths."

"Give her a moment to wake," came Sadaria's voice, which, while covered with a veneer of professionalism, was soft with awe. "The first touch of Light, even for humans, can be debilitating for a short time."

"You healed mother by the Great Machine?" Liriks's voice was curious.

"The… The Great Machine, yes."

"You can teach me, yes?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that…"

Miriks opened two of her eyes in amusement. Liriks, seeking to the end.

Darxhis blinked, and gestured to Tamax and Liriks with a lower limb. "She's awake." Liriks scampered over from where she had been questioning the Warlock. The other two Guardians were still there, a small distance away, keeping roughly the same distance as the bravest of Eliksni. Darxhis, with some reluctance, set her down to let her kiks get a closer look.

"Mother!"

Miriks sat up and was summarily tackled by two small bodies. She laughed and held them close. "Vel, my beloved ones."

Tamax backed away, eyes wide. "I tried to keep Liriks safe and away, but she tripped me and ran back!"

Liriks nuzzled closer to her, and Miriks closed two eyes to him. "You tried, kiko. Remember whose daughter she is, I do not blame you."

He nodded, uncertain.

Hesitant footsteps approached, and Miriks turned to see Canikos and Sekris coming closer, wary. Sekris's hand was near the butt of her revolver, and Canikos rested his hand on the hilt of his right sword. They were bedraggled, and Sekris bled from a light wound on her head, but they seemed in fair health otherwise. Miriks beckoned to them.

They neared them and knelt beside her. "Miriks…" It seemed the scarred Eliksa did not know where to begin. Miriks gently pushed Liriks away and showed them the bloodstained hole in her clothing where the bullet had pierced her, and the unmarked chitin-skin beneath it. Sekris put a hand to her mouth, and Canikos gasped aloud. "

It's true…" he said slowly. "The Light healed you…"

"Eia," Miriks replied simply.

"How did it feel, mother?" Liriks asked. Darxhis and the others leaned closer.

Miriks looked down, touching the place where her wound had been. "At first it felt like power, rushing through me, enlightening every part. After that, it felt like purpose, like direction…" She looked up, realizing the last time she had felt that. "Like my days with my father and mother." Slow nods around. "And I still feel it." Miriks clenched her fist in determination. "We are not done. We still have much work to do. She looked to the Warlock. "And it was Sadaria who healed me."

The two Eliksni turned and regarded the Guardian for a moment. Sadaria had since replaced her helm. Sekris stood and faced the Guardian. "I am Sekris."

"I am Sadaria."

A pause, and the Guardian's companions approached. "I am glad your weapon is at your side," Sekris finally said, an edge to her voice.

The Guardian did not reply.

Canikos stood hurriedly, and stepped forward, keeping his hands clear of weapon hilts. "I am Canikos, and she means to say; thank you for healing our friend." He bowed slightly and held out a hand in fellowship.

The Warlock looked at it. She sighed a deep breath, and took it, clasping Canikos's forearm. "It was… a unique pleasure. This is the greatest amount of civil Eliksni I have ever seen in one place, I will say that outright." She released her grasp, and the other Guardians moved beside her. Miriks stood up, Darxhis and the kiks with her, and they moved to stand beside Sekris and Canikos.

Six Eliksni met the gazes of three Guardians, and there was a silence between them that was incredibly thick. "I suppose we should have waited on our introductions, dear one, yes?" Canikos muttered. Sekris made no indication she had heard him.

Miriks stepped forward. "Guardians, have you looked further at the nodes? While I do desire to know more of you, and begin this path of trust, there is an urgency to Misraak's mission."

"Yes, of course, you're right," said the Titan, the Ghost-being continuing to translate. "It gave us a set of coordinates, leading to a location that we know well. Do you know anything of what it means?"

"Only that Misraaks needs your help. The enemies of both humanity and the House of Light are moving, and Misraaks needs all the help he can get at this time."

The Titan nodded. "All right." He turned to the Hunter. [Tiana, I will stay and see if I can help these Eliksni. You were the one called by Mithrax, you should go to the Farm as quickly as possible. Sadaria, it's your choice.]

[I will wait to see what is required of us. I am intrigued at this current situation.]

The Hunter nodded, and turned to leave. She stopped, and looked to Miriks. "Are you all of the House of Light?"

Miriks shook her head. "No, just I and my kiks."

The Hunter was silent. She turned, and shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry. Being allies with Eliksni will take some getting used to."

Miriks bowed to her. "I understand, and forgive you. Fare well with Misraaks. Serve the Machine well."

The Hunter nodded, and turned again. She broke into a run, then ascended to the higher level with a series of bouncing jumps. After the sound of her footsteps had faded, another sound made itself known. The scraping of metal, and the clattering of stones.

The group turned just in time to see Captain Naksar twisting himself free of Kaltis's pin. The large Eliksni fell to the ground with a crash, landing on his feet. He picked up his fallen weapons and rose, eyes narrowed, empty fingers stretched into claws.

"He's going to be a problem, isn't he," Sadaria said, sliding a new magazine into her rifle.

Miriks nodded.

Kaltis hovered away, still eyeing the Captain as if contemplating another attack. Then Naksar spoke. "Darxhis, if your Servitor comes at me again, it will not survive, regardless of Archon law."

Darxhis called out to Kaltis, and the Servitor responded with a low rumble, flying over to the small group. The Captain reached the lines of Eliksni that had remained -the noncombatants had successfully evacuated- and regarded them with his narrowed gaze. One by one, even those that had made as if to follow Canikos and Sekris, all bowed to him.

Beside her, Canikos touched the hilt of his blade. Sekris hissed at him, but Canikos seemed not to listen. Liriks hid behind her mother's cloak, but Tamax watched with narrowed eyes. Miriks turned to the Titan. "You and Sadaria should back away. What happens will be for the Eliksni to decide."

"What if he attacks?" asked the Titan, voice low.

"Then you may defend. But I must try to help the Drain." The Guardians heeded her words, retreating to watch along the wall.

Upon witnessing the submission of his warriors, Naksar turned his attention to them. He stalked forward, swords in hand, and he was followed by those of the Drain. He stopped a short distance away, then lifted his sword. Naksar's voice, vibrating with contained rage, rang through the cavern. "I first address the traitors to my house! To the warriors; you will only be punished with a docking. But as for the machinist-" His eyes burned in the dim light. "He who I _trusted_, as a Kell trusts his Archon; you will also be docked, and will _never _see the light of day again. This is my mercy, and my proclamation. Accept it, or receive harsher punishment." He paused, to let the threats sink in. "And as for Miriks, the flesh-lover who sought to destroy everything I've wrought from this ruined planet, I say this;" His gaze met hers across the gap, and she met it eye for eye. "Leave my sight this instant, or accept that your kiks will be orphaned and cast to the Cabal to be crushed under their heels."

The silence after stretched on, whispers of that threat lingering, and Miriks took a deep breath, pondering how she could communicate to everyone that they should make a break for it without being noticed.

Then Canikos stepped forward, drawing his twin swords with a flourish. He opened his mouth and shouted in the harshest of challenge-tones, "I, Canikos of the House of Stone, defend the honor of my Kell!" He pointed one blade at Naksar. "I challenge you, Naksar of Dusk, not only for Kell Miriks's honor, but also for the freedom of my wife and Darxhis of Dusk from your Captainship."

Miriks turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Sekris simply let her head drop into her hand.

The Captain took too long to reply for the shock, and in its wake Eliksni spoke wildly back and forth, hopeful whispers of the return of the House of Stone, the severity of the response, and the much more likely possibility of Canikos's insanity all featuring prominently. Naksar regained control of himself and shouted to get everything under control, but some, led by an Eliksni Miriks recognized as Paxhis, had already departed the lines to find the Houseweb terminal.

"That dreg is no Kell!" Naksar bellowed. "How dare you mock the title and its honored House by associating it with something like her!?"

Canikos did not reply, and the Eliksni did not stop their searching.

Miriks, for her part, clutched at the Marauder's arm. "What are you _doing_?!" she cried, fear coursing through her.

Sekris punched Canikos with all her strength, staggering him. "You ethersick _idiot_! He will destroy you, and then us!"

"Miriks, remember when you said that you sought Light for all Eliksni?" Miriks nodded dumbly, head spinning too much for her to actually recall such a conversation, but it did sound like something she'd said. "This is the only way for we of the Drain to get this chance, Miriks."

Sekris growled, "What are you talking about, that makes no sense!"

Darxhis took her arm. "No, it does make sense, I see where he's coming from." All in the group turned to him in confusion, even Canikos. He tried to explain quickly, hands waving. "If we try to follow you, Naksar will not let us go. So, the only way to follow the House of Light at this time _and _escape Naksar's wrath would be to use the strength of the Guardians, which would defeat the purpose of Miriks's cause in the first place, which is unification and peace between humans and Eliksni, yes? So a duel of honor between two is the only way." He paused, considering. "The only flaw in this plan… well... is that he has to win."

A shout of the purest shock came from the Eliksni lines. Naksar roared for silence, and Paxhis stood atop a crate to gain vantage over the whole of the Eliksni. Peace was achieved, and he cleared his throat, eyes wide. "While Chelchis, He Who Stood Before the Maw, his wife, and five oldest sons have both been confirmed dead at the hands of Oryx for many years;" a pause, "the remains of his youngest daughter were never found. Her name was," He paused again, very much for dramatic affect, "Miriks, daughter Chelchis and Yiriks."

Chaos was immediate and complete. Under the uproar of curiosity and confusion, Miriks's head spun. Canikos… had used her. He had denied Miriks's own denial of her lineage, using her potential Kellship as an opportunity to save them all. She held a position of power, no matter how much she didn't want it, and now it seemed it would be used regardless of her choice. She looked on as Canikos tightened his grip on his blades, preparing to fight. "If I fall, Sekris, get Miriks and her kiks out of here. Darxhis too, if you can."

"Don't be a fool, I'm not leaving you," she snapped back.

"I don't want you to die with me, beloved!" he shouted. Sekris narrowed her eyes, and he shook his head and took a breath to focus himself. "But I won't argue, Machine knows that won't get me anywhere." He looked to the smaller Eliksni. "Darxhis, it's up to you, then."

The machinist nodded, setting his mandibles in determination.

Naksar gave up on trying to silence his troops and stalked forward, blades ready at his sides. "Face me then, follower of a weak Kell who deserves not her title! Dusk will swallow you!"

Canikos squared his shoulders and advanced.

Miriks held her head in her hands. Canikos's plan was foolish, reckless, and likely to fail. But it was brave. And Miriks found, to her surprise, that it _was _the correct path of action. She looked up. There was only one problem.

Naksar was right; she didn't deserve the title of Kell. But that didn't mean it was too late to earn it. And here, now, she could make up for her previous mistakes. Miriks acted before she could stop herself. She knelt and pulled her kiks close for a moment. She met their eyes. "Do you both remember the stories I told you about your grandfather, and his bravery?" They nodded, Tamax enthusiastic. They didn't entirely understand all that was happening, but one day, maybe, they could, and forgive her. "It's my turn to be brave as he was, to give you both a future just as he tried to give us ours." Darxhis heard her words, and his eyes widened. She ignored him. "If I fall, be brave. Trust the Light." Then she stood, and walked to Canikos.

"Warrior of Stone!" she shouted, recalling the authority in her father's voice and seeking to replicate it. "Stand down." Canikos turned to her, surprise on his face. Naksar watched, ready. "This is not your battle, but mine." She allowed Naksar a glance. "The Captain is right; I am unworthy. So, I will face him, and take his authority myself." She held out a hand. "Lend me your blade."

Canikos blinked, "But, my Kell…"

"Peace."

"You cannot possibly-"

"Warrior!" she shouted. "Your Kell orders you."

He bowed and handed her his sword. She hefted it; it was heavier than she was used to. She drew a shock dagger and deactivated its arc energy. She spoke softer. "Go. Your plan, it is the same if I fall. Keep my kiks safe."

"Yes, my Kell." Canikos's words were run through with concern, but laced with something surprisingly like awe. He returned to his wife's side.

Miriks turned and faced Naksar, who had been waiting, and tried to hide her fear.

"At least you have the honor to face me yourself, small Kell". Naksar said with a fanged scowl, allowing her a nod. Then he began to unfasten his cloak with his free hands. The Captain set his swords down to shuck his greaves and bracers off, then let his chestplate fall with a crash, ignoring the protests of his lieutenants. He stepped out of his fallen armor, bare-chested, torso plates broad with muscle. "Falkis!" he called behind him. "Bind my hands."

"But sir, why-" the large Vandal said, eyes wide.

"Do you not know the proper way?" Naksar demanded. "My challenger comes before me without armor or a second pair of limbs. Fairness is demanded. Follow your orders."

Silently, the lieutenant nodded and bound Naksar's lower arms behind his back. Then Naksar picked up his blades again, turning the arc power on, then off again. Miriks was impressed with his dedication to the traditions, and was more than a little relieved at not having to try and get through that thick armor with her small blades.

"What are your terms of combat, O Kell," Naksar said, the title grating off his tongue.

"To death or surrender. If I lose, you may take whatever punishment you wish upon me. The warriors also. Leave my kiks alive, and set them free."

"And if you win?" His voice made it clear that it seemed very much an impossibility. She did not blame him.

"I will take your Captainship. You personally, however, will not be required to follow me. Agreement to those terms?"

His gaze didn't leave hers. "Your new friends," he spat the word, "will not interfere?"

Miriks nodded.

"Then, agreement."

"Combatants!" called Falkis, his clear voice ringing through the chamber, "ready yourselves!"

Naksar, a Captain of Dusk, took up a general challenge stance, ready to rush forward instantly.

Miriks, the untested Kell of Stone, took up the stance she had been taught those decades ago; larger blade reaching up to her opponent, the smaller dagger held above her head.

"Begin!"

Naksar charged.

Miriks gritted her teeth and held firm, trusting in the instructions of her father and brothers. She had been trained by them for half her life, and they were as clear to her as the day she had finally understood them. Especially those instructions on how to fight larger opponents.

Naksar slashed down with a roar, and Miriks brought up her larger blade. With the speed of a skiff between stars, Miriks deflected the mighty blow to the side. Sent off-balance, Naksar stumbled past. He shoved himself around, his other blade cutting the air where he thought she would counter-attack. But she wasn't there. Miriks regarded him from her initial position, her feet barely moved from where she had planted them.

Naksar wasted no time and swept back, legs pounding the bare rock, and with a swing of terrible power, moved to cut her in half. Miriks bent her knees smoothly, bringing both blades up to meet the horizontal strike. She twisted under the force of the blow, the keening metal sending sparks onto her chest and clenched eyes as the clashing blades passing just above her head. At the last moment she threw strength into her heavier sword, again upsetting the momentum of the larger fighter.

Naksar spun, teeth gritting. Again, she hadn't moved her position. He growled, "You mock me?"

Miriks adjusted her stance to face him. "It is a stance of Stone. I do not mock one who could kill me in one blow." She narrowed two eyes. "If that blow can be landed, that is."

Naksar surged forward again, this time swinging both blades; one at her head and the other at her feet. This time Miriks danced backwards, neatly avoiding the strikes, but Naksar was expecting that. His second cut was swift, but Miriks suddenly closed the gap between them, within his reach. Before he could do more than widen his eyes, her dagger bit his side twice. He roared in pain and surprise and kicked out at Miriks, who tumbled away, cleanly dodging the pursuing strikes. A murmur of appreciative surprise from the watching audience; the smaller opponent had drawn first blood.

Naksar swore under his breath, gauging his wounds with a critical eye. They were deep, but not crippling. Miriks got to her feet and kept moving, knowing that her initial advantage had been lost. Naksar began to circle with her, in a lower stance, much like a Wolf would, and Miriks realized that very well could be his former house. Misraaks was also originally from Wolves.

They rounded the edge of their improvised dueling ground, and Miriks noted in the back of her mind the positions of stairs, obstacles, places she could go to counter and avoid whatever strategies Naksar was making.

This time, he was wise, and stalked towards her deliberately. She readied herself, ignoring the ache in her muscles at holding the stance. She remembered and had once mastered them, yes, but that did not mean she was a dedicated warrior.

Not like the Captain. Naksar lunged, his blade aimed for her heart. Miriks parried briskly, then jumped back as the other blade whistled towards her head. Instead of retreating, however, she advanced, trying to surprise him. He narrowed all eyes and batted her thrust aside, then lifted his foot and kicked out to drive her back. She abandoned her push and backed away.

"You have more skill than I expected, small Kell," Naksar stated. "They told me how you defeated Salix easily, and I wasn't sure how much I believed of it." He struck, and they exchanged a flurry of blows, each one closer to hitting the other than the last. Miriks was forced to retreat again under the Captain's heavy strikes, and Naksar continued. "Not only skilled with combat, but in other ways as well. What did you promise my machinist for him to betray me? Your love? And my warriors, what did they see in you, a dreg, to warrant following?"

"I was seeking the Light," Miriks replied, taking controlled breaths, forcing herself not to snap her replies. "They decided to follow me. I promised them nothing, save the blessings the Light could give."

"The Light?" Naksar barked a sour laugh, and slashed forth once again. "You are a fool following her foolish dream, or else a liar!" He punctuated every other word with a strike, and Miriks struggled not to catch the blows directly in a block; she had not the strength to directly counter him.

She struck at his legs, forcing him to back away, and then she replied. "And I promised them those blessings, because I had found them myself," Miriks declared, ignoring his words.

"And what are those, yes? Glory beyond measure? The finest ships and weapons, with a lifetime of ether?" All his eyes narrowed. "Eternal life, and the power and favor of the Machine?"

Miriks knew not to reply to the jibe, she would not be a fool, to hope so great as that. "Peace. Direction. A path to follow, unbound by the corrupted traditions of the past." Miriks stepped forward, but did not move to attack. "And did you not see? The Light of the Guardians saved me from death! Together, think of what we could do, what the Eliksni could be again!"

Naksar shook his head. "You have faith in the humans? You are a fool; we will only ever be seen as dregs already under their feet, and they will never be anything other than god-thieves. And as for your _Light_," he spat the word. "A trick, nothing more." With that, he rushed forward, blades held low. He swung down at her, and Miriks dodged the blow and counter-struck at his leg. The tip of the sword pierced him, yet to her fear he continued to advance.

Before she could draw back or use her dagger, his fist knocked her to the ground in a back-handed blow. With a roar of triumph, he stabbed down to where she was, and Miriks frantically rolled out of the way. She scrambled a ways and then got to her feet, trying to clear her head from the blow. So dazed was she, that she barely had time to register as both of the Captain's blades swung towards her. A frantic block, a jarring impact, and suddenly Miriks was flying.

She crashed into the side of a shelter, breaking through the rough wood and cloth to tumble into someone's hastily-exited bedroll. Miriks tried to shake off the pain, but as she rose, she noted that her left leg had been damaged in the impact. Her instincts suddenly flared and she froze just as the point of a massive sword broke through the wall beside where she was standing.

Naksar roared and the small shelter collapsed under the strength of his blows. Miriks exited as a cloud of dust rose from the destruction, and she realized with a burst of inspiration that he didn't know where she was. "Naksar!" she shouted, limping quickly through the small maze of shelters and supplies. "What would you do for a purpose?"

"I already have one, you slippery female, now face me!" She could see his tall form, rampaging through the Drain's collection of structures, searching. Another growl, then came, "Why?" It took Miriks a moment to realize that Naksar was asking her. "Why are you doing this?" Her initial thought was that he was trying to flush her out by asking questions. Then she realized that his cry was sincere; the Captain's anger was manifesting as questions. She decided to respond in kind.

"Naksar! What would you do to give peace to your people? To have no fear that their kiks will be hunted the rest of their days, living a half-life of sorrow and survival?" He did not answer, only growled, his frustration at not locating her and his own unwillingness to answer driving him to rage once again. She looked around and saw, strapped to the ceiling above her, a hanging net of materials salvaged from broken hulls and buildings. She stopped moving and called again, "Naksar, listen to me! That is what I'm fighting for, that is why Darxhis, Canikos and Sekris follow me! They want a future!"

He caught sight of her and his eyes narrowed, burning with a renewed drive. Miriks judged his speed, backed several paces, then faced him, blades ready. "That is why. I told the truth; I did not mean to involve your people in this conflict." She raised her sword, leaning on her good leg. "But fate did not give me a choice. But you, you _do _have this choice."

He shouted a wordless cry, unwilling to answer her. There was no other course. Miriks looked up, activated the dagger's arc energy, then threw it. It sliced through the supporting cord like it was twine. The mass of metal tumbled free.

Naksar broke his bonds and raised all four arms to take the full brunt of the falling debris, solid beams of metal and shells of interstellar vehicles falling around him like so much iron rain. The debris settled and more dust rose. And then Miriks saw, with a growing sense of dread, the unfallen figure of Naksar still standing within it.

He opened his eyes, blue flaring in the rising dust cloud, and stepped over the rubble. The Captain of Dusk took deep breaths, and Miriks could see signs of damage all over him; cracks where chitin plates had been broken, discoloration where the flesh beneath was bruised, but still he stood tall. One of his swords had been lost in the pile, and he almost stumbled upon his second step, but he raised the other blade to her. "Small Kell, that is _not _what I meant." He rushed forward.

Miriks bared her teeth, brought both hands on the haft of her sword, and met his charge with her own. His first strike would have left her in pieces, but she went to ground and slid between his legs, her sword drawing a line of blue blood on the inside of his thigh. He gave no reaction to the wound and did not stop his momentum, instead using it to slam into the nearest structure, shattering it. She turned just in time to duck under a piece of stone the size of her torso. Miriks gave him no pause and ran back, her blade flicking out to strike as his arm, but he was prepared. Naksar accepted the blow, more of his blood staining the ground, and used her lunge to grab her arm in a fierce grip.

Panic coursed through her, but Instead of ripping the limb off or throwing her across the Drain, Naksar instead pulled her closer to him. He bared his teeth. "Of course I desire those things. Do you mock me with simple questions? Why do you think I built this place!?" He gestured with a lower arm at the Drain. "The old Kells and Archons and their talk of regaining the Machine, of taking back what we had lost to humanity, none of that had ever meant _anything _to me!"

The Captain shoved her backwards, sending her tumbling. Miriks rose as quickly as she could, but Naksar hadn't moved to capitalize on her weakness.

He took a step closer. "Your father was different from them. Helping the Houseless, saving lives, creating a place of peace for all who came to him, rather than living as a slavemaster." He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to hold his rage back. "I wanted to come to him, to leave those futile wars for the Machine. And then, Stone fell to the Maw, curse it!" He spat on the ground, and continued. "My Kell was killed soon after." He looked up, and met her eye for eye. "And now you come, a dreg of an Eliksa with a foolish fire in her heart, almost destroying the place I'd been making to be safe, then trying to save it?" He laughed a bitter laugh. "Then she claims to be Chelchis's daughter!"

Miriks narrowed her eyes and lowered her stance. What did this all mean? Was he actually considering what she was trying to say?

Miriks narrowed her eyes and lowered her stance. What did this all mean? Was he actually considering what she was trying to say?

Naksar straightened, eyes narrowing, determination filling every fiber of his battered frame."Your words, your Light, they mean nothing to me, Miriks of Stone." Naksar raised his sword high and roared his final challenge. "You must prove to me, by your actions, that you are worthy of your father's legacy!"

And Miriks realized. She narrowed two eyes, and didn't waste any more breath. With all her remaining energy, ignoring her pain, Miriks cried a return to his challenge and charged.

And Naksar laughed. "YES!" He raised his sword and met her.

Her uppercut forced him back a step, and she did not let him regain it. Furiously she struck, her two-handed assault surprising the larger warrior. He again tried to kick her back, and received a new wound. Naksar swung his sword in mighty strokes, but Miriks was never where it seemed she would be, her blade pricking and deflecting, and soon Naksar was wreathed in the ether escaping from his blood.

Then he caught her blade against his. With his free hand he slapped her sword aside, and she stumbled back, off balance. He drew back his blade and lunged, and the sword sliced against her side. Miriks cried out, and desperately moved backwards, feeling new blood run between her fingers. His following punch slammed into her wounded side with a distinct crack. Miriks was tossed backward, sliding on the dusty rock. She tried to rise, but fell; her side was burning in agony, and her head spun from the release of ether.

"Come on, small Kell! Rise!" Naksar shouted, stalking forward, sword held low, ready to end her where she lay.

Get up!" came a distant cry, and she recognized Darxhis, his voice overshadowing two higher voices. Her kiks were calling to her. Miriks stood, chest heaving air into her lungs, and she gripped her blade again, facing him.

Naksar swung, a massive downstroke that would surely break any guard she could muster..

Miriks held her breath and remembered. Her father, speaking of Light and showing her stances. Vanox, his kind eyes and patient soul. She remembered Misraaks, his faith, his listening ears. She saw her new friends, and the one who had healed her. She remembered her kiks, the hope in her heart, for their future.

Miriks remembered Stone. She remembered darkness. And she remembered the dawn that came after.

She set her feet and angled her blade. Naksar's sword slammed into the ground beside her, and she did not falter. With one deft stroke, she cut off his hand, then slammed the pommel of her sword into the Captain's jaw. He staggered backwards. Miriks leapt off a small pile of rubble, focused all her weight and strength, and repeated the attack. Naksar was sent reeling, then, at last, he fell.

She stumbled beside him, and knelt, putting her blade to his throat. "Captain of Dusk, do you surrender your title to me? Or must I take it?" In her heart, Miriks pled that he would accept the first.

"Why did you wait?" His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Why did you choose now to reveal yourself, daughter of Stone? It would have given such hope…"

"I failed," she replied softly. He blinked at her. "I tried, and I fell, barely surviving. I've been struggling just to live and keep those I love living, for all these years until now. I know it would have given hope but then, I was weak, I was without purpose and direction, and I had no Light left in me." She took a breath. "But now," She met his gaze determinedly. "I have those things. And the Eliksni, now, need their hope. So I rose, and will try again, and again, until I succeed." She looked down at him, at the edge of her blade. "Now, what is your choice?"

He let out a series of coughs, which became a rumbling chuckle. "My seat is yours, small- my Kell. And, if it pleases you, I desire to continue my existence, even if under your command."

Somehow, she found herself closing two eyes. "It would please me." She removed her blade, and stood shakily.

Naksar rose as well, ether falling from his many wounds like small drifting rivers. He knelt before her. "Lead my people well, and you have nothing to fear from me."

Miriks took her blade and held it out to him in two hands. "Rise, Naksar, Captain of Stone." He regarded it for a long moment. Then his remaining hand took it, and he rose again. She nodded, and together they looked out over the watching Eliksni. All conversation that had sprung up hushed immediately.

Naksar called, his voice echoing through the Drain. "I show you your Kell, Miriks of Stone!" The Eliksni made their sounds of approval, many kneeling, but when Naksar lowered his arms he spoke to her again, voice as quiet as she had yet heard. "My Kell... Did the Light truly choose you?"

Miriks shook her head. "No." She stepped forward without meeting his gaze, moving to meet her kiks, who could no longer be restrained by Darxhis. "I chose it."

...  
_sorry for the repeated edits, I tried to place a deadline for myself for midnight last night, and this is what happened. Just know, if you were one of the first people to read it first, then its changed a bit. I apologize for that. I guess it being summer and all my writing friends being away for the summer, beta reading has been limited. Hope you enjoyed it, and there's two more chapters until the first arc is officially complete, the last one being the one I'm particularly excited to write. It involves... complications. ;) _


	15. Chapter 15

Miriks sat on a rock, feeling useless. Yes, she was directing things, and yes, she was recovering from her injuries, but... still. She sighed, and a light breeze brushed her face as if answering. The morning sunlight wove between the branches of the trees surrounding the entrance to the Drain, illuminating the Eliksni moving about the small clearing. Those previously of Dusk were finishing the necessary preparations to leave their cavern home, strapping bags of supplies and bundles of weapons to Pikes of various sizes, warriors and noncombatants moving together.

Notwithstanding the guards she had ordered in a perimeter deeper into the woods, the Eliksni squinted into the sunlight with fear and anticipation. But Miriks also saw the brief pauses, of Eliksni savoring the warmth on their skin, of digging their claws into the soft grass and soil of the surface. She was also pleased to see their renewed energy, the motivation that was granted by working to achieve something new.

Those that had rejected her Kellship had been allowed to choose their own paths. Whether they stayed in the Drain or left, it did not matter to Miriks; those that had chosen to follow her would never be returning to the Drain. Not many had chosen not to anyway, as their only reliable source of ether —Kaltis— was coming with her. Miriks marveled for a moment; that her words alone were moving an entire community of her people. She hoped she was up to the task.

She watched the cavern entrance just as a large figure emerged from it. It was the Titan, carrying two bulging crates over each arm. The Guardians had remained as they promised, and their presence had been distant but watchful for the most part. It seemed, however, that they had both decided to become more involved.

Just last night, the both of them, Sadaria and the Titan-whose name was Joshua- had approached her and told her everything about the nodes and place that they led to. They had been instrumental in the making of her plan to leave the Drain.

Now, the Warlock Sadaria had departed a little while ago, moving with the scouts to check the intended path, and Joshua, to everyone's surprise, was working beside the Eliksni. He had removed his helmet, showing a hardened face, sporting short black hair and a rough fuzz of stubble on his square human jawline. His normally intent and serious features were lightened by a wry smile, and then Mirks saw her own daughter following him curiously, something small in her own arms. Miriks watched, two eyes closing, as he passed the line of Pikes being packed to where his own sleek vehicle waited. With Liriks hovering silently around him, the Titan clumsily attached the Eliksni crates to the hovering craft. Liriks then offered up her small burden, and the Guardian took it and staggered at pretended weight. Liriks's clear laugh could be heard around the clearing, and turned several heads.

Miriks closed all four eyes to herself, then paused as her comm pinged in her ear. "Eia?"

Canikos's voice came to her. "Kell, the scouts returned. They report nothing of note in our intended path."

"Good. Call them back, we'll need the Pikes. And the Warlock?"

"She's the reason for the report, Miri— Kell Miriks. A squad of Cabal were set to intercept us, but… well, they no longer exist, it seems."

Miriks closed two eyes. Despite his new position as her subordinate, Canikos had retained his levity, and it was surprisingly welcome. "You return as well, Captain. We will speak of plans."

"Yes, my Kell." His tone was that of a soldier, but Miriks heard his joy at saying her title, and hearing his own."

Miriks noted movement, and turned to see Darxhis approaching. He wore a simpler version of his priest robes, the gray fabric reaching to his knees to allow more mobility. He still wore no mask or hood, and his black hair was clean and styled, leaving his eyes bright for all to see. She blinked; it had been a while since she had seen a male take such care in his appearance. He looked… well, _attractive_. His frame, slim as it was, filled the cloak perfectly, and Miriks could see the curves of muscles in his arms and chest. It had been a while since she had felt such unnerving things, she had held it back for so long after Vanox had died. But now, she felt the familiar tuggings in her heart, and that was worrying indeed.

But she was tired of feeling lonely.

He stood before her and knelt, lowering his eyes. "Kell Miriks, Kaltis is currently at 13% capacity, and at the present rate will be ready for a distribution by the end of this lunar cycle. That is pleasing to you?"

Miriks sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Darxhis… yes. Thank you." She paused, unsure of how to say what she felt. She felt suddenly that she didn't care and went ahead anyway. "The thing that doesn't, is you! Stand, or better, sit with me, Darxhis. I need to say things."

He looked up in surprise, eyes very wide. "My Kell?"

She looked up and hissed in exasperation. "That! Everyone is calling me that, and already I tire of hearing it!" She slid down from her perch on the rock, wincing at the pain, and Darxhis reached out hesitantly, torn between helping her and touching a Kell without permission. She instead took his hand and, using his weight as a support, hobbled around the rock and sank to the ground, facing away from the Drain.

Miriks could feel his surprise, but she -and he- didn't let go, and she felt again the familiar stubbornness rise in her heart. "Sit with me," she asked, trying not for it to sound like an order. "Please?"

He cocked his head curiously, but did so without further confusion or rejection. A weight dropped from her heart. He spoke hesitantly. "What would you have me do…" He paused, and met her gaze. "Miriks?"

She closed all four eyes. "That, Darxhis. I would have you call me my birth name." She opened them and looked to him with soberness. "I know that I am a Kell, and must retain the respect of those who follow me. But…" She looked down. "Even the Kell has their family, those who call them by name." Darxhis's eyes widened in shock, and Miriks backpedaled hastily, brows brightening furiously. "And friends as well! I remember my father and his Barons referred to each other by name on occasion!" She took a breath, and calmed the flutterings. "All I have are my children, and even they look at me differently now. If I do not have something to hold to, I fear that I may forget Miriks and be replaced by the Kell of Stone." She looked back to him. "And before I was your Kell, we were friends, yes? I do not want that to go away, either." She stopped, aware that her emotions were close to overcoming her. "I… hope that makes sense," she said. "If you are comfortable with it, that is. I would not order you to."

Darxhis thought on her words, and she waited. "I know... you wouldn't lose yourself, Miriks." Darxhis closed two eyes. "You will be a great Kell, with or without my support. But I…" He paused and looked down at his hand, the one she hadn't let go of. "I would love to help you in this way, and am honored that you... consider me worthy of doing this."

She gave him the imitation of a human smile he had used on her. "Besides, it would do everyone well to know that their Kell is on good terms with her Archon, yes?"

He chuckled. "Yes, or at least, I would hope so. Given the Kell is you..."

Miriks let go of his hand and shoved him playfully. "Don't line my path with rocks, how would it be if Sekris was instead Kell?"

"Oh, do not say such a thing." Darxhis pretended a shudder.

Miriks laughed, and Darxhis joined her. There was a pause, during which she met his eyes without speaking. Then she moved to stand, and he helped her rise. She sat back up on the boulder. "You are ready to leave, yes?"

"Eia."

Of course he was. Miriks narrowed two eyes, but remembered. "I can only assume you have other duties…"

He cocked his head, considering. "Perhaps I do. But I do not know of any at the moment." Darxhis looked to her, eyes sparkling. "I will remain here until I am needed elsewhere. If that pleases my Kell?"

She looked away pointedly, feigning indifference and hiding her closed eyes. Darxhis did remain, and they were in silence watching the Drain's foot traffic, which seemed to be slowing, more and more Eliksni coming outside to sit in the clearing. It seemed that the preparations for the journey were almost complete. Then her eyes caught something interesting. She pointed, eyes narrowing to see better. "Darxhis, who's that Naksar is carrying?"

"Oh. His wife, Kenki. She is late-bearing, and it is dangerous for her to move too much.".

Miriks gave him a narrow look. "I am a mother, I know these things."

He closed all four eyes and raised a lower limb. "Ah, yes, I knew, sorry...:"

She waved away his apology, two eyes closed, but opened them again quickly. She looked closer, and saw the Captain setting the small Eliksa down on the padded bed of a modified heavy Pike, his personal was sufficient distance to hide most details of her appearance, but even from here, Miriks could see Kenki's snow-white hair. Miriks spoke softly, mind working. "He has not told me he was going to be a father…" Miriks saw the Eliksa take Naksar's hand encouragingly, and he touched her face gently with a lower arm.

"I think," Darxhis began, almost hesitantly, "That may have been the reason he spared you when Tarkis revealed your escape. That you reminded him of her, yes?"

Miriks did not directly reply. "Her hair… She is of Winter?"

Darxhis leaned on the rock. "It… well, it is rumored that she is the daughter of a Winter Baroness. Naksar allowed the rumors, but has said nothing certainly."

Miriks nodded. She would have to meet the Eliksa, it was strange that Naksar had never mentioned her. "One thing is certain."

Darxhis looked to her, curious. "What, Miriks?"

"She is his symbol of the future." She gestured lightly. "See her hair? How long it is? That is an attempt to meet the old traditions, where a Eliksa who does not see war does not cut her hair, and was practiced by the wives and families of Barons and Kells."

Darxhis's eyes went wide, and he reached into his cloak, pulling out a small book of human paper and a leadline. He flipped it open, and Miriks blinked, seeing pages of detailed notes on what seemed to be a great many things. He began writing frantically. "Eia, eia…" he muttered. "Craask's wife, and indeed the Baron's as well, all did have long hair… I did not know that was the reason." He tapped his mandibles with the small utensil. "And I guess that is why Sekris makes Canikos cut her hair every week."

Miriks raised her hand to hide sudden laughter. "Yes, that does… match her."

Naksar, leaving his wife in the care of another Eliksa, began to stride towards them, limping slightly. They both straightened and sobered, Darxhis finishing up his note-taking.

Miriks had, upon achieving order in the Drain, offered to ask Sadaria to heal both of them, but Naksar had refused. His reasoning was valid; they were wounds dealt in a ceremonial duel, and it was a testament to the victor's strength that their opponent heal with the course of time. So Miriks had also chosen to heal naturally, to respect his choice.

Naksar knelt before her, not giving Darxhis a second glance. "Kell Miriks, all who follow you are prepared to depart."

Miriks nodded, pleasantly surprised at how quickly it had all been done. She took care not to look at his handless upper arm, covered in bandages. "Thank you, Captain. Your people are organized and quick; they've been led well."

Naksar merely nodded at the compliment, not meeting her eyes. "What remains?"

Miriks narrowed two eyes. "I know you wish to know more of our journey, Captain. When Captain Canikos returns, then I will tell you all I know."

He looked up then, surprise in his eyes.

She closed two eyes fully. "I will not be a Kell that keeps secrets from those I am supposed to trust. I said I would care for your people, and I meant it, Naksar."

He nodded again and rose, hiding his pain well, eyes lowered in gratitude. "Thank you, Kell Miriks."

She turned to Darxhis. "Machinist Darxhis, please tell the Titan Joshua that it is time to discuss the plans."

Darxhis bowed. "Yes, my Kell." He closed two eyes to her, then departed.

The hum of a vehicle came, and they all became alert, searching for the source of it. A Pike bearing Canikos and Sekris drove into the clearing at speed, obviously not expecting the amount of Eliksni waiting there. Expertly, Sekris guided the Pike in a safe route, and the machine thrummed to a stop beside the group. Canikos leapt off, and after speaking to Sekris, strode over to them. The Captain's cloak was just a tad too big for him, but he wore it well, and Miriks smiled at the happy pride in his bearing.

He inclined his head to Naksar, then knelt beside him facing Miriks. "My Kell, you summoned me?"

"Eia. We will clarify my plans to travel northeast, then if there is no dissent, we will set out thereafter. And please, sit, I do not know how long this will take." The Captains did so, Canikos and Naksar regarding each other with hidden wariness. Miriks watched them calmly. Naksar had made no sign of disapproval when she had made the Marauder a Captain, but making a former subordinate an equal must be a foriegn thing to Naksar.

They didn't have to wait too long, and Darxhis returned with the Guardian behind him.

Darxhis spoke, rather… presentationally. "The Guardian Joshua Grendellson, of the Titan Order of…" Darxhis blinked. "Excuse me, sir Titan, what Order are you?"

Joshua was bowing uncertainly to Miriks while the Ghost-being translated, then he looked up in surprise. "You know of-" Then he looked around at the waiting Eliknsi, and covered his surprise. "The Pilgrim Guard."

Miriks hid her amusement. "Thank you for meeting with us, Guardian Joshua. Please, sit." Her two Captains watched the human closely, and the Guardian hesitated, expressive face betraying nothing of his thoughts.

"I never thought this day would come," he stated softly, and then he looked to those in the circle, meeting their eyes. "Even in the days before Six Fronts, when I guided people to the City and the Eliksni were the monsters at our doors, I wished… for understanding between us." Joshua met Miriks's gaze last. "And now, here, a Kell invites a Guardian to sit with her." He chuckled softly, but it was not a sound of amusement; it was one of wonder, and joy. Bowing his head to her, Joshua sat. "Forgive me, Kell of Stone. I'm just… very, very grateful."

Miriks nodded, closing two eyes to him. "There is no need to apologize, yes? If anything, we should ask forgiveness of you." She looked around the circle. "One day, we will. But now, our path is not fully walked. There is much to do, and it is time to begin this journey." All nodded agreement. She looked to Joshua. "Please, Guardian Joshua, tell us what you know."

The large human cleared his throat, shoving his arm across his eyes briefly. Was that… water in his eyes? "Yes, of course. Constance?" His ghost-being rose, spinning her front section several times. A plane of blue light appeared, but within seconds a three-dimensional map of the area had been created, complete with the areas of control of the respective races. Joshua pointed. "Our destination is approximately 95 kilometers to the northeast, through mountainous terrain. There are ruins of roads, but using current satellite imagery and maps of the area, there are several areas that have been completely destroyed or buried due to earthquakes or battles. Here is the optimal route." An orange line appeared, tracing its way through the hills, rivers, and mountains.

"It goes through Red Legion territory," Canikos noted.

Joshua nodded. "Alternate routes are possible. Barring interference from the Legion, it would take less than a day via Sparrow or Pike to reach the Farm, and within the hour for a dropship or skiff, flying low."

"We do not have enough Pikes to carry everyone," stated Naksar firmly. "My skiff does not have enough fuel for weight-bearing, either. It does have enough for the journey itself, however."

Joshua nodded. "The journey will take less than a week on foot, possibly even within three days, if your people can maintain a steady pace."

"They are strong," Naksar rumbled, "even with the wounds that some received, it can be done."

"How close will we be to the actual site, and do they know we are coming?" Miriks asked, leaning forward. "I know some humans seek peace, but it is not good to push too far, too soon, yes?"

Joshua leaned forwards. "They… do not know. I guess it depends on where Mithrax is set up. You are right, we must be cautious upon approaching."

Naksar spoke then. "What is it that we are approaching?"

The Ghost-being replied, its slightly robotic tones weaving the Eliksni words melodiously, if not with perfect skill. "It is called the Farm. It was a base of operations during the Red War, and is now a thriving settlement."

"What is the importance of this place? It is deep in human control."

"I agree with Naksar," Canikos began, touching the area between his eyes in confusion. "Why, may I ask, are we going there?"

The Guardian looked to her, and Miriks waited until all eyes were upon her. She took a breath. "There, we will meet with Misraaks, the Kell of Light."

Canikos paused, then nodded, remembering Miriks's story.

Naksar, however, narrowed his eyes. The words came slowly, not a question. "I have not heard of this Kell." Miriks could almost hear the multitude of questions that single statement represented. He was questioning validity and authority, not only of Misraaks, but also of her. Yet, he was doing it in the least subversive manner. Naksar was giving her a chance.

She began. "Misraaks was the one who saved my life. He taught me the ways of Light, and it is by his example that humanity and Eliksni could finally begin to think of peace." She gestured to Joshua. "It is because of Misraaks that we are having this conversation in the presence of a Guardian." Miriks thought it best not to specify that it had been Misraaks that had sent her to the Drain. "He has thought out plans to make peace with humanity for many years, and he will have a place and purpose for our people."

Naksar considered her words. "Can this Misraaks guarantee safety against the humans of this Farm?"

Miriks exchanged a glance with Joshua. She met Naksar's eyes. "No."

Naksar narrowed his eyes and lowered his gaze.

Miriks sighed; it seemed the proud Captain needed reassurance. She couldn't give that, but hope would be a good place to start. "After my first husband died, I wandered Venus with my kiks." If he was surprised at her starting a narrative, he did not show it. "It seemed that we would die among those ruins, and I began to lose hope. And then I found an Eliksni. He saw my needs, and my kiks's as well. He offered ether, and safety. I did not know what he would want of me. I could have been walking into death, slavery, or even torture for me and the kiks." She kept her back straight and summoned all of her self-possession, channeling it into elegant strength. Something Naksar understood.

"But I chose to trust, and took the step. It was the first on my journey back, to regaining all I had lost, all I had pushed away." He looked up, and she met his eyes. "Misraaks offered me the future, and I chose it. Now, we have a choice to guide the Eliksni back towards the Light, back to a future filled with painful hope." She narrowed all four eyes, and she channeled her emotions into her words. "You chose me as your Kell, Naksar. Now, I offer you the future. Do you accept it?"

Naksar looked right back at her, expression stone. Then he bowed his head. "I follow you, my Kell."

A silence fell. Joshua's single pair of eyes moved deliberately around the circle, and Miriks let herself relax, even if reluctantly. He didn't entirely understand, yet. But he was accepting her authority, at least, and she had time.

"Captain Naksar, when is your wife due? I do not want to overburden her at such a critical time." He looked up again, surprise visible. She stretched slightly from her sitting position, feeling vertebrae move pleasantly. "After all, we are not under a time constraint, and can take as much time as we need outside of dangerous areas." He didn't reply, instead continuing to look at her in confusion. She gestured. "Go on, Captain. This is valuable information to our journey."

Naksar finally replied. "My Kell, she is due within the week, even as soon as tonight."

Miriks leaned forward. So soon? "Does she require aid with the delivery?"

Naksar blinked. "I… she has Eliksa that attend her. I do not know, truly. Those are Eliksa's matters." He seemed flustered, but underneath that Miriks caught anxiety, a type she recognized. That of a new father.

"Well, now it is a Kell's matter. Captain, contact me when the time comes, and I will see if I can be of any assistance."

"But, my Kell," he began, but Miriks held up a hand.

"That is an order, Naksar."

"Ah… Eia, Kell Miriks."

She closed two eyes. "I have already proven myself to the warriors of the Drain. But they are not the only group where I must show my worth, yes?"

Canikos chuckled. "She's right, Naksar, where would we be without the support of our Eliksa? Still dreg-souled, yes?" Naksar nodded reluctantly.

The Titan smiled, a wry curve on his versatile lips. "Sounds about right to me. Most of my friends are women, guardians or no, and if they aren't happy, you'll know about it one way or the other."

He was a wise man. Miriks restrained her amusement and sat up straight, raising a hand to summon silence. "Please, let us continue. We have time, but that does not mean we should spend it idley. Guardian, if we traveled for eight hours today, where would we be on this course of yours?"

Joshua nodded and continued, pointing and explaining various difficulties they might encounter along the way. Miriks watched, and realized that it was truly happening. What she had set out to do, had been done. These Eliksni were coming with her, to meet the Kell of Light, and even if they did not all understand what the weight of that was now, it only meant that her responsibility had grown. They would know, and she would guide them safely there.

Miriks would do what she could to bring them to the Light.

She narrowed all four eyes. And if she couldn't do that, she would bring the Light to them.

….

_Ight! There's the narrative. For the epilogue of Part One, who would yall like to see more? Eramis, or Variks? (PM or review works) I was originally planning on showing both antagonists, but i realized that i would use the same writing style for both, which could get kind of tiresome to read._


	16. Chapter 16

The door to the bridge opened, and three figures entered. Lights flickered on, regarding their presence, illuminating the web of control decks and scurryways. They walked slowly, inspecting the bridge of the Ketch for signs of damage or age.

One, he strode with strength; his growth to Captain had been rapid, but he had adjusted well. Another, she moved with a deadly grace, lower arms on the handles of blades even in this long-abandoned place. And the last, he, who bore a wrapped walking staff attempting to serve as another leg, he moved as if every step was supporting a great and terrible weight.

Eventually they came to the chair -almost a throne- in the center of the bridge. The two warriors stepped to the side, and the old Eliksni looked on it for a moment. It was the size of an Archon or Kell. Then, with a reluctance as if ordering his legs to bend, he sat. He touched the control panels in the four-armed throne, and they responded in turn. With a whirring of arc components and the flickering of many lights, the bridge controls responded to his touch.

"My Kell, I cannot believe, after all these years, it still works," exclaimed the Captain.

"I made sure of its condition before I left," said the old one. "Always knew I would need it, yes."

The female was silent.

There was a pause, while they looked out the great, dust-covered windows to the starry blackness of space. "It will serve us well, and carry us between worlds," said the Captain. It was a statement, but the questions within it echoed in the great room.

The old Eliksni chuckled dryly. "Yes yes yes, I know you are curious, young one. Where we will go, what we will do, yes?" He reached out and handed his staff to the Captain, who took it with a bobbed bow. The elder straightened and turned in the chair, adjusting something, and the throne shrunk to fit his wiry frame. "We are the envoys. We go where the lost must be found, to gather they who have been scattered." He brought his upper arms -mechanical, both- together, looking into the expanse of stars. "We will first go to the place that will not last. Nessus, the disintegrating refuge of Dusk. They need leaders more than any other."

The Captain nodded, excited at the direct answer. "When, then? When shall we go to guide them?"

The elder chuckled, which in turn became a series of racking coughs. Upon recovery, he said, "Patience, Garics. The Ketch is intact, yes. We have hands, yes. But are they skilled?" He shook his head ruefully. "No no no. It will take time to train them in something other than a Skiff or a Pike. You understand?"

"Eia, my Kell."

The elder settled back in his seat, then looked to the Eliksa. "What is it you wanted to tell me, Sriliks?"

She began immediately, speaking in the high forms. "Kell, the Devils are moving. My Scars tell me that she will strike the City within the week, and Misraaks has moved to stop them."

"You have told me these things before. What of them?"

"I _have_ told you, and you have not replied," she responded, an edge to the last word. "What is your plan? They, especially Eramis, will become a thorn in your side if you let them act for too long." A long pause. The Eliksa spoke again. "Remember, Kell, she is a threat that you caused. The Shipstealer would not be out there, unifying Devils again, if you hadn't released her." She leaned forward. "It is rumored that Taniks has risen once again, by a dark power. You and I both know who will hire him first."

The elder stood, and walked to the railing of the bridge's top deck. "The dregs will fight for scraps. The Devils have broken fangs, and the Light is an illusion. Judgement stands. Judgement will live." He turned again and faced her, the mask of chains swinging from under hard eyes. "You are right, I caused her reign. But if she continues by dreg strength, feeding from within, they may become strong; but they will be brittle, easily broken. Just like Skolas was, yes. If they survive the coming conflicts, they will be welcome to join us, so long as they abandon their hate. But if they insist on fighting, carrying on in the ways of hate and deceit…" He turned away, steel fingers gripping the rail so hard the metal protested. "Judgement will fall upon them."

He stood tall, defiant. The weight was still there, but it was pushed back, hidden, beneath something invisible, of incredible power.

Loyalty.

The warrior Eliksa accepted the answer. She bowed slowly, deliberately. "Yes, Variks Kell."

"Thank you, kisa." He addressed the Captain without turning. "Garics, return and bring the others aboard. It is their time to learn, yes? I will teach them what I know of Ketches."


	17. Chapter 17

**Darxhis was taking notes. He had already written many things, of their day's journey, their new traveling companions, and of the events of the past week. But now, he made note of Miriks. He licked a finger to turn a page, and continued to write. **

_**Even now, she helps Kenki with the delivery. I have met very few willing to help others, with so little reward to herself. I suppose I should expect that, from the stories I've heard of Stone, but it is a whole new matter in person. She is so very different than the Eliksa of Kings or Dusk. **_

**He paused, attention pulled to the large tent near the center of the temporary village of makeshift shelters. Darxhis could hear tight, controlled orders, given by a feminine voice that might have been Miriks, over softer, pained gasps. A small distance from the shelter, Captain Naksar paced restlessly. Darxhis watched, partially out of amusement and also in sheer wonder at how nervous the normally unflappable Captain was. **

**Darxhis allowed the Captain the small dignity of not being observed and wrote some more. **_**I was surprised when she asked me to be personal with her. It was a duty I was not prepared to shoulder, but it is not unpleasant. Confusion of the best kind fills me lately, and I hope for it to continue. **_

**Darxhis looked over the assortment of tents and improvised shelters, lit by glowrods and campfires. The Eliksni of the Drain had traveled far today, even if they had been forced to stop early by Kenki's birthing pains. The entire community was in a small clearing on a flat area adjoining the mountain hillside, the ruins of some small buildings around the edges. The Titan Joshua had called this area a "soccer field" and had apparently been the site of some human sport before their Collapse. As it was, the field was much overgrown with trees and plants, but the forest surrounding it more than did the job of hiding them from Cabal outriders and other Eliksni raiding parties. Apparently, the remnants of Winter resided somewhere around here, after being pushed off Venus.**

**Darxhis sighed and slid the notebook back into his bag. He stood stiffly, and made to walk around the perimeter, watching Eliksni settling down for the evening, getting ready for the next leg of their journey. He stretched and examined his lower arms, flexing the skeletal fingers. They were almost fully regrown, another ether draught and Darxhis estimated he had a month or so more. It would have been sooner, but missing the last draught had been a necessity.**

**He passed a pair of guards headed in for the end of the first watch, they nodded to him with hidden wariness. It was not obvious, but Darxhis sighed after they passed him. He knew the reason; he had betrayed the Captain, and even thought he had been pardoned and favored by the new Kell, one who had betrayed would always be watched with caution and distance.**

**He neared the pair of Guardians, sitting to themselves beside a small pile of wood. As he watched, the Titan snapped his bare fingers to send a tight grouping of arc sparks into the dry pile. It caught easily, and the fire grew steadily. The Warlock tended to it, her Ghost transmatting a pair of small wrapped packages into her waiting hand, setting a similarly constructed pot to boil. So, Guardians did have to eat after all... **

**They both were without their helmets, and the Titan had even partially removed his armor. Darxhis then saw Joshua pull out a small datapad and begin speaking to his Ghost-being softly. Were those… Eliksni words? **

**Darxhis made to approach but caught a faint flicker of brightness in the tall grass surrounding them. Two pairs of wide blue eyes. He was not the only one watching the Guardians. Darxhis closed two eyes. Well, Liriks would have to be a bit braver than that if she wanted to improve human-Eliksni relations. Silently, he reached down and picked up a small stone. With a slight whip of an upper arm, the rock sailed away to rustle the grass where Liriks crept. **

**She squeaked in shock, a soft sound, yet the Warlock heard and spun, reaching for her weapon, but Joshua's hand was there, stopping her. His dark eyes scanned the bushes, and saw the frozen form of the small kika. He smiled and spoke, hesitantly. "Velask, kika Liriks." He paused, then started again. "Apologize I… for pain." Darxhis blinked, his shock sudden and joyful. The human had spoken Eliksni! It was rough, and badly formed, but comprehensible. His knowledge of human speech would make this scene particularly interesting. He had not told Miriks yet; none had asked, so he had kept it to himself so far. **

**The Titan looked up, hand touching his chin. "Pain?" [No…]**

**Liriks seemed just as shocked. But she stood slowly. "You mean, fear? You did not hurt me, no."**

"**Ah, uh, eia," Joshua replied, scribbling a note on the datapad. "Fear?"**

**Liriks walked carefully over; the Warlock had made the pretense of completely relaxing, her glowing eyes darting between Joshua and the small Eliksa. "Yes, fear. It is not hard."**

**The Ghost began to translate her words, but the Titan stopped her. "Not… hard…" He laughed and shook his head. [Maybe not for you, child. But I, who have lived over two hundred times longer than you, struggle greatly.] The ghost translated those words, and Liriks's eyes widened. He cocked his head to the side, sitting himself on the ground, his large form fully facing Liriks. "Maybe… yes you help me?" Liriks laughed at that, a small chittering. The human smiled at her. [If you desire, of course.] **

**Without directly replying, the kika approached him. "No, the yes goes after what you say, silly human. Like this; you share food with Liriks, yes?"**

"**Eia…" Joshua muttered, writing. "Kika… Eliksni… eat? Ether…?"**

"**Oh, no no. We can eat other things too. Ether is good, yes, but…" She pointed at the pot of water and the packets on the ground. "What is that, anyway?" **

**The Titan worked frantically to translate what she had said, but the Warlock sighed. [It's called ramen.] **

**The ghost translated as the Titan stared in shock, and Liriks nodded, moving even closer. "Ra-men." [Ramen.]**

**[How...? Sadaria, how did you know what she said?]**

**[She's speaking two languages, Josh, and you're forgetting one.] The Warlock reached out and handed one of the packets to the kika. [Here. Look.]**

**[What do you mean?]**

**[Body language. I said look, not eat, silly child… ah, now you've got plastic in your mouth.] **

**The ghost translated, and Liriks looked down abashedly and spat the wrapper out in a spray of noodle scraps. "Sorry, Eliksa Guardian."**

**Sadaria took the remainder of the bitten packet, holding it with a vague disgust. [I'm not an Eliksa. I'm a Warlock. You may call me Madam Sadaria.]**

"**Mad-am… Sa-da-ria." [Madam Sadaria.] She plopped beside them as Sadaria prodded the now-boiling pot. **

**The Titan leaned back, shaking his head, but did not stop taking notes. [It has been at least half a century since I learned a new language. Thank you for reminding me how it is done, Sadaria.]**

**[Establish a connection first, then attempt translation. You keep forgetting I teach language classes, but you always went to Eris's before the Disaster.]**

**Joshua's smile faded. [She was a very good teacher. I never knew a Hunter who loved teaching like she.] **

"**So if that is not how you eat ra-men, how do you eat it?" **

**[You boil it in water. Then it is merely tolerable.] The Warlock pulled more ingredients from her bag, including a pair of oranges. [No, we need more than just noodles.]**

**Darxhis smiled, and backed away slowly, his work complete. Liriks would continue to do great things for future relationships between the two races, and he looked forward to seeing it. He wondered briefly where Tamax was. Maybe he was at the small tent that Miriks had had him assemble? He decided to check. **

**A pained scream ripped through the night, drawing all's attention, but it was Kenki's. Dimly he heard the chattering of the other Eliksa, and he gave a soft prayer to the ancestors that the eggs would be intact, and Kenki well. He wondered if he should begin walking back that direction, but dismissed it, not quite dismissing the vague worry. They didn't need his help. Kenki had been fed well at the last distribution, and did not need Kaltis's ether. **

**Darxhis made his way through the scattered tents and shelters, towards the looming warskiff in the corner of the clearing. It was a second-tier craft, not large and scarce on features, but well-armed. The small tent, directly under the craft's nose, was illuminated from within. Darxhis approached hesitantly, kneeling to peek in the entrance. Tamax was within, awake and lying on his back, upper arms behind his head as he looked blankly at the ceiling. **

**Darxhis cleared his throat, and Tamax jolted upright, hand grasping a dagger. He looked wildly out the tent door, blade shimmering with energy, and Darxhis put his upper hands in the air, closing two eyes. "In peace, kiko, in peace."**

**Tamax took fast breaths, adrenaline coursing through him. "Oh, it's you." He lowered the blade, but looked aside, mouth set in a small scowl. **

"**Eia." Darxhis sat smoothly. "Your reactions are quick, even among friends."**

"**Don't praise me. I don't even know you, machinist." **

**Darxhis blinked, taken aback by the venom in the small Eliksni's voice. "Ah…" He did not know what to say, so he changed the subject. "What are you doing?"**

"**Nothing. And if I was, it would be none of your business, yes." Tamax lay back down on the folds of cloth, the wrenki of Stone wrinkling under his weight. His eyes were narrowed and filled with frustration. **

**Darxhis, wanting to help in some way but having no idea of how to go about it, hesitantly shifted. He decided an indirect route. "Where is Liriks?"**

"**I don't know," Tamax groused. "Mother told us to stay here, but she wanted to see the Guardians, so she left. Maybe they'll shoot her too," he ended bitterly, but the barest hint of fear bled through. **

"**Kiko, don't say that," Darxhis reprimanded. "They are our friends now, they would not hurt a kika. Remember, they healed your mother."**

"**After they killed her!" Tamax cried, sitting up. "You can't truly trust them, the only reason you pretend to is because you desire mother's trust." His voice lowered and he touched the dagger's hilt again. "I've seen the way you look at her, machinist. If you even think about hurting my mother, I'll kill you."**

**Darxhis's regarded Tamax in surprise. Such a hardened kiko… he truly had been through much. Darxhis faced the fact that he was not welcome and stood. He bowed slightly. "I trust your words, Eliksni. I hope one day that you will believe me when I say I would never try to harm Miriks, but I see that is not this day." Tamax didn't make any indication that he cared about Darxhis's hope as he left the kiko's view. **

**When Darxhis was Tamax's age he had been tinkering with machines, learning how to build and fix with the other Splicer apprentices. Yes, there had been fights and dockings and withholding of ether, but Lantiks had ensured that all of them didn't kill one another and that they were generally happy. Darxhis had never known the pain and horror of the battlefield, and only once had he felt the fear of hiding from an enemy more powerful than yourself. But he did share that pain of seeing those close to you cut down. **

**He shivered as he walked away, dusk drawing ever nearer as shadows lengthened and more fires were lit. The kiko didn't trust him, and that revelation shook Darxhis for some reason. He tried to shrug it off, but it was difficult. Miriks trusted him with her name… then Darxhis realized that he had been tying them all together, Miriks and her small family. He had done much the same before, to a pair of twin brothers who had been his fellow apprentices on the holdings of Kings, thought of them as the same when they were very much different people. Darxhis sighed and brushed his hair back with a hand. It seemed he had to build a relationship of trust with each of them. **

**He made his way back to the tent where Miriks had been aiding Kenki, and saw that Naksar had left his pacing and now stood at the side of the door, almost vibrating with restlessness. A voice called and light spilled from the interior, a figure's shadow proceeding them. He rounded the tent, keeping a small distance, stepping around a smaller shelter. It was Miriks, and she spoke to Naksar softly. For a moment Darxhis feared, then he heard her tones; comforting, relieved. Successful. Naksar knelt before his Kell and spoke in tones of gratitude, and Darxhis could hear the gentleness in her reply. Then she held the curtain wide, allowing the Captain within, and Naksar entered immediately, ducking his head to fit. **

**Miriks let the curtain fall. She sagged slightly, her arm going to her wounded side, and alarm ran through him as it seemed she would collapse. She did not, and began making her way alone between the tents towards one side of the encampment, the side bordered by a small stream of fresh water. Darxhis hurried to her. **

"**Velask, my Kell," he called lightly, and she turned. **

"**Vel, Darxhis."**

**He reached her side, looking for signs of hurt. "All is well? How is your wound?"**

"**It pains me, but is not reopened." She closed two eyes wearily. "Do not worry yourself." **

**He nodded, accepting her words hesitantly. "How was the delivery?" **

"**Eia, it was well. It was… fearful for a time, it was her first birth and we feared that the egg might break. No such thing occurred, however; she did well, and the eggs are healthy." She met his gaze, eyes sparkling with joy even under the fatigue. "There are two of them."**

"**A joyful occasion!" he proclaimed, closing two eyes, and she simply nodded. Miriks wore an apron-like robe with no sleeves, and under it wearing again the ragged shirt she had arrived in. The finer clothing gifted from Kenki must have been placed aside for the rigors of birthing. The apron was indeed stained, and Darxhis saw the reason for her journey to the river; her arms were stained blue. He set aside discomfort and took a place beside her. "I would accompany you, if you are willing?"**

"**Yes, please… the night is coming, it would be good to have a friend, yes?" She started to walk, and he walked beside her. There was silence for a time as they made their way out of the field of tents and shelters. Above them, black was beginning to overcome the blue, and the occasional high-soaring cloud was lit from beyond the horizon by orange and red light. They reached the edge of the forest, and Darxhis pulled out a small light to guide their steps. Footing was uncertain, and hesitantly Darxhis held out his hand to her. She took it without pause and they picked their way down to the riverbank. **

"**Oh, Miriks," he remembered. "Don't worry about your kiks, Liriks is teaching the Guardians Eliksni, and Tamax is back at your tent."**

"**Oh, thank you. I told her to stay with her brother, though I cannot say I am surprised."**

**Darxhis began uncertainly, "Your kiko… was not content." **

**Miriks sighed. "Did he speak unkindly to you?"**

"**Yes, but that is not… I did not know how to help him."**

**She closed two eyes, kneeling beside the rushing water, taking off the stained apron. "Do not blame yourself, Darxhis. He has been without a father for many months. It will take him some time before he is used to another male being around." **

"**Eia… thank you." Darxhis did not know what else to say, though he felt he should. Miriks set to work scrubbing her arms in the stream, his directed light illuminating the area clearly. **

"**He… is a determined soul. He seeks purpose."**

"**Like his father, yes?" Darxhis was curious to hear about Vanox, who Miriks had mentioned briefly. **

**She gave a heavy sigh, pausing her movements. "Darxhis… my husband was not Tamax's father."**

**Darxhis blinked. "What?" **

"**I told you of my rough times. He is one of only two remnants of those days that I treasure." The pieces began to click in Darxhis's head. Miriks and Liriks's dark gray hair, and Tamax's dark red. Red, the racial color of House Devils.**

**He bowed his head. "I… I understand." **

**She nodded in return, with a pleased air, and Darxhis was suddenly glad that he hadn't offered pity. "I've accepted my fate, and him. Tamax is my son, and I love him." She sat beside the river, shaking off water. He sat beside her. "It was a long road, but it was because of Vanox that I came to terms with Tamax's existence." She paused, considering her words, and suddenly she moved closer to him, leaning her head on his upper shoulder. He stiffened, but did not reject her touch. **

**There was a pause, and he set the light on the ground, shining across the small river. She spoke again, voice softer. "After that day, I was full of shame, and anger, and… darkness. Vanox helped me from that place, and it took me many months before I came to an understanding. But I did."**

**Her breathing began to slow, and Darxhis abruptly realized how cold is must be without sleeves. He swung his cloak around her hurriedly, mind going in several directions. **

"**He sounds like a good Eliksni."**

**She sighed. "He was." Miriks shifted against him. "But you're good too, and I have faith that Tamax will accept you in time." **

**He closed all four eyes, and let go of his reservations, letting his arm relax around her. "Ah… Thank you, Miriks."**

**She made no further words, and he simply held her, listening to the pleasant sounds of dusk around them. He mentally set aside the next topic of conversation he had planned -asking why she hadn't set up a place to sleep in the Skiff, her rightful place- it could wait. **

**And then, quite suddenly, he realized that the Kell of Stone was sleeping soundly on his shoulder. Her chest rose and fell, and Darxhis fought back the oddest combinations of emotions he had ever encountered; the fearful respect demanding him to back away warring with a potent sensation of joy and peace at being near Miriks. Darxhis turned off the light and slid it into a pocket. Not wanting to wake her, he gently turned, sliding two arms under her outstretched legs and picking her up as carefully as he could. He huffed quietly; he was no warrior and despite her small size, she had muscles that he had underestimated. Then again, he considered as he began picking his back up the kill with her head leaning on his shoulder, he had seen her fight a Captain-class opponent in single combat. He left her cast-off apron, and ventured up the slope, using his smallet arms to stabilize her. **

**He made his way through the camp, drawing the occasional gaze, but in the dimness he wasn't sure if those watching recognized the sleeping figure in his arms as their Kell. He passed the large tent, and through a open flap he saw Naksar, crouching intently beside a weary Kenki, who held pair of teal eggs tenderly in her upper arms. He saw, over the tents, the glowing smoke of the Guardian's campfire, with Liriks's excited chittering and the patient replies in the human tongue. He walked until he reached the small tent under the skiff's nose. **

**He knelt and used a lower arm to open the curtain softly. Tamax slept on the bare grass, having left room for his mother. Darxhis set the Eliksa down, covering Miriks with the blanket she had carried since those days aboard her ketch. He touched her head gently, brushing her short gray hair from her closed eyes. Then Darxhis left the tent before he let himself think about what he had done. **

**He walked away, in the direction of the Guardians campfire. Someone needed to send Liriks to bed, and he wanted to have a turn interacting with the friendly (friendly!) humans. He walked through the Eliksni campground, alight with fires and glowrods. There were some who had feared what the lights would bring, but Miriks had reassured them there was nothing to fear; for there were Guardians protecting them this night. **


	18. Chapter 18

Desiks was raised from sleep with a sharp kick. Instantly she pushed back the urge to cower into a ball.

"Up, dreg!"

She scrambled to her feet, grogginess stuffing her head. "Eia, eia, I am rising—"

Another kick, sending Desiks to the ground again. "You're too slow, _kasina_," he barked. "You're on watch. Go, now, before my foot finds you again!"

She got up out of his reach, trying not to stumble into the stirring forms of her fellow dregs. The pain in her side would go away, but these were her friends and they needed their sleep. She moved to take her blanket. Memiks narrowed all four eyes and kicked her down again, and she bit her lip to restrain a cry in pain, her fangs drawing blood. "Come on, you worthless piece of flesh and chitin, get up!" he mocked, but another voice roared from outside the tight dreghollow, stirring the other dregs. It was the voice of Captain Eriks. Memiks scowled and Dresiks snatched up her blanket from the ground and sprinted away, dodging his glowering gaze.

It was not her turn for watch. Desiks growled once she knew she was out of earshot. Memiks was a sour Marauder who had been denied Captainship once for his twisted lower arm, and now his anger boiled constantly above his dreg subordinates. The fact that she had rejected his attentions when he had been a dreg did _not_ help things.

Desiks scrambled out of the dreghollow, moving around the aboveground dwellings of the higher Eliksni. The faintest tinges of brightness shone on the horizon, and the watchtower stood out as a spike of messily-welded iron on top of the hill in the center of the settlement. With dexterity granted by her small size, she easily scrambled up the tower, ignoring the ache in her side. She plopped herself on the topmost platform with its mounted wire rifle and sidled up the metal wall, swinging the ragged blanket around her.

She chittered and shivered. It was spring, but winter chill still remained this high up. Her side stung, but she there was nothing she could do about it other than avoid antagonizing it. Desiks brushed straw from her shoulder-length white-speckled-black hair. It was her most prized possession, she having grew it ever since they had been driven off Venus. Her beauty was noted, despite her status, and the only thing that protected her from the abuses of dreg-souled wretches like Memiks was the constant companionship of her friends, the other dregs of Winter. And Lady Aphix, of course, but she wasn't always around.

No, the Lady's work in the catacombs kept her far too busy to be the outward head of House Winter. In fact, Desiks considered, she hadn't seen the Lady much in the years since they had been driven off Venus. Desiks shivered once, pulling the blanket tighter around her and considered actually doing her job. Keeping watch _was _important, she couldn't deny that, just last week another Eliksni raiding party had been sighted, and after they had been driven away the watchman responsible for the callout had been given extra ether.

She hissed a sigh, then scooted forward, taking the grip of the wire rifle, looking through its two-eyed scope. She surveyed the approach to the House of Winter's valley, secreted among the mountain passes. They had given up the nomadic lifestyle, their last Ketch gathering dust in the far end of the valley, in exchange for the fortified nature of the valley. They did not face much conflict, the Servitors were in good condition, and their numbers were beginning to increase again. Desiks had considered joining that particular endeavor, having and raising kiks, but there was none she knew in Winter that she knew worthy of her attentions! Or they were above her station… Desiks sat back and huffed. One day she knew the choice would be taken from her, and that fact ate at her.

The radio on her tower blipped, making her jump. She scrambled to answer it. "Eia? Desiks up here."

A machine-aided voice returned. "Captain Sarak here. Any signs?"

She shifted self-consciously, even though she knew the scarred Captain couldn't see her, suddenly very grateful she had been checking. "No, no, nothing seen. Just a beautiful morning, yes?" She slapped herself mentally. Beautiful morning? Had she _really _just said that.

A pleased grunt. "Eia." A pause. "It is not your turn for watch."

Desiks gulped nervously. "No. Marauder Memiks, um, woke and sent me."

A longer pause. Captain Sarak was very thoughtful, and that was one reason Desiks liked him. The other was that he was very large. "Stay up until midsun. After, come to me. I know the Baroness doesn't approve of such actions."

"Eia, uh, of course!" The Captain hung up, and Desiks took a deep breath, gingerly putting the receiver back. That had gone… _better_ than she had feared. And she would be working with Captain Sarak later! Maybe this might be a good day after all. Desiks snugged the blanket around her and leaned back onto the rifle's stock. Now, only nothing had to happen for her good day to come.

…

The last Baroness of Winter rose early. The silver curtains didn't so much as rustle as she passed, and she dressed quickly and simply, ignoring pains. Her maidens continued to try to rise earlier than she, but last night the Lady had sabotaged their personal alarms. They would get the rest they needed. Her archon, however, hadn't been quite so easy to slip past; her daily dose of medicated ether lay on her bedside panel. She narrowed two eyes and took the draught with shaking hands, the foul-tasting rush of energy pushing back the creeping disease in her heart.

Her side-swinging braid only took minutes to weave, four hands working in tandem. Aphix remembered when it had taken half of an hour. The bare concrete walls and floor of the ancient human structure had been hidden as much as possible by swaths of cloth of various colors, light blues and hues of cyan dominant. She took her walking cane from its place by the door and left her room, white robes brushing the smooth human-made floor as gently as snow touching the tops of trees. The guards outside her room, Captains both, jumped at her exit, but she waved and they ceased further action. They knew better than to try and stop her.

But when she reached the ancient elevator, Sarlixx was waiting there for her. Aphix closed all four eyes briefly. Of course they had informed him. The Last Baron of Winter stood over nine feet tall, a vast array of arc weapons on his sides and back, a human rocket launcher casually swung to one side. She had told him… ah, what had she expected. The habits of the warlike faded slowly.

"My Lady," he intoned, stooping to hold out his hand to her as the doors opened; he knew where she wanted to go.

"Thank you, Sarlixx," she replied, nodding graciously to the Baron. They entered the elevator together, it apparently having been made for more than humans as it was large enough to fit Sarlixx's bulk. It shuddered and began the descent, the machinery having been recently repaired by the best of Winter's Splicers. She did not miss the stairs.

He cleared his throat gruffly. "Ah, Lady. You slept well, yes?"

"As well as can be expected." She looked to him, closing two eyes. "Thank you for inquiring." He nodded distractedly, probably already trying to string the next bunch of words together in a polite order. He was still getting used to elite mannerisms, having until recently been the roughest of Eliksni, but he had been improving markedly as of late.

The elevator descended quietly as the Baron struggled for words. "You, uh… your heart is not troubling you?"

"Not as much." Then she looked up at him. "How is your crew faring? Are they getting along with my people?"

He seemed taken aback by the question, and her direct attention. "Well… my Captains say that everything is well. I have not personally, uh…"

"Seen any trouble?" she offered.

He was relieved at the suggestion, nodding. "Eia." But instead of settling for that and finding a new conversation, he seemed to actually consider the topic. Aphix blinked. That was new. "Some of uh… them miss the old ways. The fight is in their blood."

"Remember, Baron, that what you term the old ways were once the new, savage ways. Remember, yes? You were young, I remember, but you were there, yes. We were once a people of peace."

He rasped a sigh. "Yes, Lady, you are right, even if I do not remember. But…"

She laughed lightly. "You miss Draksis."

Sarlixx backtracked furiously. "That is not what… What I…" He suddenly stifled a particularly harsh oath and switched to Lower speech. "We of the Lixx Wintership miss the seeking of adventure. The risk, the reward, the loot!" His confidence noticeably grew, with the language he was familiar with, as well in that she wasn't objecting to him using it. "We want to fight again, Lady Aphix! There are many places close to here that we can raid, and it can only bolster our strength, your strength, Winter's strength!" She raised a hand and Sarlixx realized how loud his voice had become in the confined space. He shrunk slightly, and switched to High speech. "Apologies. I did not mean to insinuate you are a not-good leader, Lady Aphix."

The doors opened with a ping, and Aphix left the elevator promptly, forcing the huge Eliksni to all but scurry after her. "My dear Sarlixx, that is exactly what you are implying." She turned the corner, the harsh blue light of glowrods illuminating the bare construction of the hallway. "I remain here, not seeking such things as you value, but instead preserving the things that I value. And one of those values is this;" She reached up and tugged on one of Sarlixx's ethermask spines, pulling his head down. She met his surprised eyes. "Strength is not always taken. Sometimes it is grown."

Aphix let go, and he straightened abashedly. She shook her head. "No, my dear Baron, my work here is too valuable to risk. If you were to raid someone strong enough to retaliate, would we, weak remnant that we are, be strong enough to stop them? And what would Cabal, or humans, think of my treasures? They would not understand, and destroy them like they do us, yes."

"Eia, Lady, that is undoubtable. It is just…" He shrugged his massive shoulders, sending armor clanking. "Pardon me, but it is just that I fear I do not understand either."

She took a deep breath. "Well, the fact that you dare to wonder shows something, Sarlixx. I did not tell you when you returned for that reason; you would not understand, and there would be a divide between us."

He protested that. "No, my Lady, I would never rebel against you! We are Winter, and you were close to my mother. She loved you, and so must I."

Aphix nodded. "Yes, I do not doubt your loyalty to your mother. Grayris was one of the best of us, before…" She forced a breath, stopping before the final door. "Before the Maw took her." She shook her head to dispel the sorrowful silence, keying her code into the Eliksni locking mechanism installed beside the door. "Regardless. You do not understand me, Sarlixx."

"No, my Lady," he admitted.

"Would you then try to?" The door opened, and Aphix faced the large Baron, inviting him to follow her inside. He seemed surprised; he was used to leaving her here at the doorway.

"You would… allow me entrance?"

She closed two eyes. "You have never wondered the exact nature of my work?"

"Oh, Lady, I have," he nodded enthusiastically like a kiko.

Aphix chuckled and strode inside. "Come then. I'll show you." She turned away from him, but heard his heavy footsteps come quickly after her. "Close the door behind you, quickly. Too much moisture is not favorable." He did so, and darkness covered them. She reached out and turned on the lights, dimly illuminating the massive chamber, cut straight from the stone of the mountain. All across the floor, held upright gently by support structures, lay narrow panel-like things covered by expanses of cloth.

"What… are those?" asked Sarlixx hesitantly.

"Our past, Baron." She strode over to her current work of restoration, cane clicking on the smooth rock. She gently uncovered the vast canvas.

"A… painting?" the Winter Baron stated with audible confusion.

"_The First Assemblage,_ by Takilis, the Third of Dawn," she intoned, turning on the focus lights. It illuminated the scene, one she had memorized. It showed a great hall, filled with banners of all colors and Eliksni in ancient, grand robes. They were led by a large figure in a crimson coat who was confronting another in violet robes.

Sarlixx knelt. "Winter, Stone, Rain, Devils, Iron, Wolves, Storms…" With each name, Sarlixx's rough voice softened as awe settled in, until he stopped altogether. "Are those… _all_ of the Houses?"

Aphix nodded. "Eia. All, save Scar. They were still rogue at that time. They doubted the Machine's intentions."

"I… I do not know some of those House symbols."

Aphix reached out and touched the metal frame reverently. "Eia, very few do, anymore. So many were destroyed during the Whirlwind. Some, like Rain, are no longer recognizable."

"What is happening?"

"The head of House Devils, Teamiks, is securing his House's rights under this new unification. He confronts Yarious of Rain, She Who Spoke for the Great Machine." There was a deep silence,

"So, when you spoke of your great work and treasure, this is what you meant."

"Eia. I have collected them, saved them." She pointed at the charred area of canvas in the lower left corner. "When Skolas wrested control of Winter, it was damaged. They are ancient besides, and even the advanced materials they were made from are beginning to degrade."

"Wait, Lady… You say, that this… this is from the Golden Age?" His eyes didn't move from the canvas, wonder seeping through his rough words. "I can barely believe that this existed when the Machine was yet with us."

She reached out with her upper arm and took his lower, his weapon-roughened hands almost scraping her smooth palms. "Eia. Come. I will show you something yet more amazing." She led him to the back of the room, where a shrouded figure almost as tall as Sarlixx was, sat covered. "Please, remove the covering."

He did so with advanced reverence, for which she was grateful. Under the cloth cover sat a statue of an Eliksni. He was cut out of black stone, ran through with veins of gold, and the figure was powerful even as age and decay sought to crack and fade him. He looked towards the sky, eyes narrowed in determination, arms and legs posed as if ready to rush to attack or braced to defend. In one hand he held the broken ruin of a long, curved sword. In another hand he welded an incredibly complex network of metal in the shape of an unknown energy.

Not only was the sword broken, but a lower arm was missing, snapped at the base of the shoulder. Some of the finer details had been worn away by weathering, and Aphix internally lamented that she had no idea how to repair that.

"Who… is that?" asked Sarlixx with slow confusion.

Aphix took several moments to reply. She looked up at the statue, emotions filling her. Despite herself, she reached out and touched the stone base. It was cold, smooth, and old. It was older than the Fallen. This stone remembered the time when the Eliksni had been more, and so did Aphix. "His name was Taniks the First, the Warbreaker."

"Wait, named like the Scarred?"

"He was that cursed being's ancestor. This statue was recovered from the ruins of Elik-ha itself, before the departure."

Sarlixx nodded, looking back to the stone figure. "Who was he?"

Aphix didn't reply. Her grandmother had told Aphix the statue's story when she had been a kika. It had filled her with such hope, a hope that had since been dashed to pieces. Where it had once been was now something more basic; the need to survive. The Traveler would never choose them again, and her life had been better after she had chosen to accept that. But there was no harm in stories.

"The last of the Skaith warlords, the founder of the reign of Elders." She moved away from the statue, standing beside Sarlixx again, watching his reaction. "He was a great warrior and leader, inspiring our race before the Machine's arrival. His story is… incredible." Aphix pitched her voice low, deliberate. Waiting.

Sarlixx's gaze did not leave the stone figure for several long moments, and the small hope inside her grew. Then, he simply nodded. "Interesting."

Aphix deflated slowly, leaning on her cane. "Eia."

"Is this all you have down here?"

"No." She sighed. It seemed she would have to take a more direct route. "There is more. As much as I would prefer that more art survived, I have literature and music as well. But that is not, I think, what you would be interested in seeing, yes?"

Sarlixx laughed and turned away from the statue. "You know me better than I supposed, Lady."

She led the way to the side of the cavern, lined with shelves. "Ah, it's not so hard. When Winter was forced to become a House of warriors, I had to grow used to it quickly. Eliksni used to be much more diverse in our interests."

"Yes, you've mentioned it before, Lady." There was a slight air of exasperation to his tone, but she was impressed his patience had lasted so long. She had learned quickly that the longest lecture the Baron could possibly take was a meeting of battle strategy.

They reached the wall and its long shelves, interspersed with counters and solidly-built drawers. Sarlixx looked with mild curiousity at the metal-bound codices and lines of database housings as Aphix, with effort, pulled open one of the drawers. "This is what I wanted to show you." The Baron leaned over, and his eyes grew wide. Aphix took a breath and lifted the first sword from its place in the padded drawer. She handed the long weapon to him, and he took it, breath held.

With a single fluid movement Sarlixx unsheathed it with a reverberating ring. He held the blade up before his eyes, and even in the dull yellow lights it shone with reflected brilliance. It was not like the bulky shockblades sheathed at his waist, short cutlass-like cleavers of rough metal, but instead it was elegantly narrow, slightly curved, and distinctly _other_. It was forged from a white metal, and the edge was slightly blued. There was no cross or grip-guard, simply a small diamond of metal set at the top of the three-handed hilt.

"What wonder is this?" Sarlixx breathed, gently moving the sword through the air, testing its weight.

"It is named the Winter's Edge. A gift from before the Whirlwind to our House, and I have seen it safe through the ages after."

Sarlixx took up a two-handed stance, bending his knees and looking out to the cavern as if seeing imaginary foes. He swung it several times, the blade humming as it cut the air. He inspected the grip briefly, and found a switch there. The large Baron almost jumped in excitement, but then looked to Aphix sheepishly.

She closed two eyes. "You may use some of its power. We have ways of recharging-" Before she could finish the sentence, golden lightning leapt up the blade of Winter's Edge, eagerly snapping and crackling at the air as if seeking a target.

Sarlixx laughed, a booming sound. "It's beautiful! What I would give for a shipful of weapons such as this!"

Aphix did not laugh with him, opening all four eyes again. "Eia, it is beautiful." She let him swing it several more times, like a kiko with a brand-new stick, before reaching out for it. He looked at her, then back at the sword. He sighed, then sheathed it, the energy along its length going out. She set her cane down, then took the blade and held it reverently with all four arms. "These are more than just weapons, however. It was a symbol of a specific promise, and those who wielded such things took upon themselves that same promise."

Sarlixx cocked his head. "What… was its promise?"

"That there would never again be war between the Houses of Winter and Scar."

He nodded. "Eia, the broken treaty."

"Eia, by us, Sarlixx. Winter broke the promise."

He quieted at that, looking down at Winter's Edge with a strange look in his eyes. Desire, tempered by solemnity. "Then what, my lady? What will become of it?"

Aphix set it back in the drawer reverently. "It will stay here, until someone worthy of its power comes and makes a new promise."

"But, my lady!" he protested. "It is only gathering dust, being unused like that, ah, um…-"

"Who shall wield it, then? I am weak, and never was a warrior." She paused, then regarded the desperate Baron narrowly. "Would you put yourself forward as worthy of such a weapon?"

He blinked, and she could see him thinking hard for a response. The warrior Baron was still for several moments, something she knew was rare for him. Then, he knelt, weapons swinging. He spoke the Low Speech, but with great care and reverence. "With respect, lady. From what you say, it is not the warrior that must be worthy of the weapon."

She raised a brow, but let him continue.

"What _is _worthy, is the promise that is made, yes?" Sarlixx bowed his head. "I am not worthy. But I will take any promise."

She regarded him. "For this weapon, it is not the strength of an arm that is measured, but of the resolve of the wielder." She continued. "The breaking of this promise has serious weight, Sarlixx of Winter," she warned. "In the ancient days, it was punishable by banishment or death. But even though I have no such power over you, Baron, I have seen how the breaking of promises harms the soul of the oathbreaker." He met her eyes, firm, and she continued. "Dissolution, despair, cruelty; I have seen all of these, and experienced the consequences as well. You understand?"

He looked down, resigning himself. "You know how weak I am, my Lady. I leave it to your choice."

"Know also, that you will not know the exact nature of the promise until after you have accepted it?"

Sarlixx's eyes widened slightly at that, then they narrowed again. "Eia."

Aphix narrowed two eyes. She lifted the sword from the drawer again. To his credit, Sarlixx contained his surprise well. "I, Aphix of Winter, will be the forger of this promise-bond." She turned, and drew the blade in a single movement. She brought the blade up, held in three hands, the point reaching towards the rocky ceiling. "Sarlixx of Winter, so long as you accept and keep the forthcoming promise, this blade shall be yours, until the promise is fulfilled or you have met your end. Do you accept the terms?"

She _saw_ Sarlixx pause, forcing himself not to rush in with hasty words. Then, he nodded heavily, eyes wide and anxious. "Eia. Upon my heart, I do."

Aphix lowered the sword, breaths becoming heavier at the exertion of keeping it steady. But she hid her weakness, as much as she could. Furiously, she thought back to rituals she had studied so very long ago. They had fascinated her at the time, but… Aphix mentally shook herself. He would not know if she did it wrong.

Moving with the utmost deliberation, she touched the side of Sarlixx's head. "Mind, to always remember the promise." She drew it back, and tapped at a foot. "Feet, to walk in the Light." She touched his hands. "Hands, that they may act rightly." She took a breath, steady. Lastly, she brought the blade to rest on his chest. "Heart. To see clearly." With every touch, Sarlixx's eyes followed the white sword, but he did not move. Then, with great care, she turned the blade over in her hands, then held the hilt out to him.

Sarlixx blinked, expecting further words, but reached out and took it. With Winter's Edge no longer weighing on her, Aphix almost stumbled, but Sarlixx reached out a lower arm to steady her. Taking deep breaths, she tried to remain standing, forcing the pain from her mind. Sarlixx looked on in concern, but she continued. "This is the promise." Then a bolt of agony shot through her, and Aphix collapsed. Sarlixx dropped the sword and caught her easily, her weight not even an inconvenience for the Baron.

"My Lady!"

She coughed, pain shooting through every limb. "Sarlixx, my-" Her voice caught in her throat, but he understood. Still kneeling, he removed the mask from his face and held it to hers, releasing the stop. Vaporized ether flooded her system. She took several deep breaths, then held up a hand. Sarlixx took it away, eyes darting urgently. Aphix reached into a pouch at her side and pulled out a small vial. She downed it in one draught, forcing it down before coughing violently, and Sarlixx hesitantly laid her on the cold stone of the vault. He moved to speak, but didn't, and she took several more deep breaths, feeling the pain recede again.

Aphix took several deep breaths, forcing her heart rate to go down. "Thank you for your assistance, Baron." He didn't reply yet, still wary. He had stood, as if to run for aid, but he knelt again beside her. Aphix sat up, and he helped her to her feet. Quickly, he picked up her cane and handed it over. She took it gratefully and leaned on it. She considered what had happened for a moment, then closed two eyes and looked up at him. "Take up your blade, we are not done." He did so. "You claim to be unworthy, Baron of Winter. How many times could you have killed me today?"

He cocked his head at that. "What… what do you mean? I would not do such a thing."

"And that is why you are better than so many of our Fallen brethren. And why I feel you can take this promise. Are you ready?"

"Eia? Are you sure you're-"

"Quiet."

"Yes, my lady."

Then she knelt in front of him, and held Winter's Edge, her hands on his. She leaned forward and put her head on his massive shoulder. "Protect the Eliksni. This is all I ask." He was shocked by her touch, but relaxed quickly. "You have proven your worth, son of Winter. Now prove your heart."

His voice was raspy. "I… thank you."

They remained like that a moment longer. Then Aphix stood, leaning again on her cane. Sarlixx rose as well, sheathing Winter's Edge. He spoke again. "And thank you for showing me your work, lady Aphix." He looked around at covered paintings and neatly ordered codices, settling his mask back over his face. "Perhaps one day, you can show me more of our past."

She closed two eyes. "I would like that very much."

A buzzing came from Sarlixx's radio. His eyes narrowed and he jerked it off its place. "Eia? Better be important, yes."

"_Baron! A report from the watchtower!"_

Aphix stiffened, and Sarlixx unconsciously settled into a lower stance.

"What do they see."

"_Uh… they want to speak to Lady Aphix!"_

"What?"

Aphix approached him, curiosity rising. "Let them speak. I am listening."

A very nervous voice came through the comms, female. "_Ah, my lady, are you there?"_

"Eia. Speak."

"_This is Desiks from the watchtower, and I have been… uh, reached out to by someone… well…"_

"Calm yourself, little one," Aphix said, narrowing two eyes. She remembered Desiks, the pretty dreg who worked hard. "Speak slowly, I will not judge, yes?"

"_Eai, eia. Thank you, my lady. A very good idea, slowing words."_ An audible breath. "_Some comes, wanting to meet with you under a flag of truce."_

"Are they Eliksni?" Sarlixx virtually barked the words, and Aphix shot a narrow glance at him as the voice on the other end gave a faint _yeep _of fear. He didn't seem to notice.

"_Eia, eia! She calls herself Miriks, of-"_

"What House?" interrupted Sarlixx.

Aphix looked up at the ceiling. "Cease your harsh tone, Sarlixx, can't you hear the Eliksa is scared?"

He winced and nodded a small bow. "Eia, sorry, lady."

"Now then," Aphix stated, voice comforting. "My dear Wintress, what House did they say they were with?"

"_Well, lady, you see, that's the odd thing, yes?"_ A nervous laugh, giddy and very much still fearful. "_You see, she claims to be the Kell of Stone." _


End file.
